Christmas With the Cullens
by BlueIsSoul
Summary: Ever since she can remember, Bella Swan has spent her Christmas with the Cullens. This Christmas its time to sort out those Edward related "complications". But what happens when Edward has a new introduction to make? Rating: Mature Pairing: EB, AH
1. Prologue

**These characters are borrowed from S. Meyer and her Twilight series, turned around and whacked into to AH. Will return tip-top, when done. Thanks.**

**Summary: Ever since she can remember, Bella Swan has spent Christmas with the Cullens. Ever since she can remember Christmas has been full of strange Edward related complications that remain unresolved year after year. Last Christmas it seemed like their strange affair had finally ended. Bella is keen to resolve her "relationship" and move on with life. But will her feelings remain the same, especially after she finds out that Edward has a new introduction to make?**

_**AN: My Christmas story which ran amok... **_

_**Title: Christmas With the Cullens**_

_**Author: BlueIsSoul**_

_**Rating: Mature**_

**Prologue**

_**Bella Swan**_

As far back as I can remember, I have always spent Christmas with the Cullens.

As far back as I can remember, it's always been a complex affair.

My mother passed away when I was three months old. So I spent my first Christmas at the Cullens being the only thing that kept Charlie going, during what quite possibly was, the worst time of his life. A time that was a hugely consequential in my life, yet one that I wasn't part of at all.

During my second Christmas with the Cullens, I said my first words. Esme often fondly recalls how I pointed at Carlisle and cried "Fanta Claws".

During my third Christmas with the Cullens I caught chicken pox from Alice, and spent most of it in a coma like state.

I refused to put any clothes on during my fourth Christmas with the Cullens. Emmett swears he knew from that very moment that I was going to grow into an "inappropriate chick".

I hate to admit when he's right.

I was mesmerized during my fifth Christmas. Edward and I spent it in front of the TV, each second, falling more and more in love with a singing purple dinosaur.

Maybe it was our love for Barney that united us, but that's when my love affair with Edward Cullen, the youngest and most frustrating Cullen boy to ever exist, began.

For many years after that, we were inseparable.

During my sixth Christmas, Edward and I insisted on wearing a matching ensemble. This consisted of a red woolly jumper – courtesy of Grandma Cullen and pea green tights – courtesy of Target. We spent most of it alternating between Charlie and Carlisle's laps, kissing their cheeks, and refusing to be called anything but Rudolph. Emmett still emails the "spot the miniscule Cullen" photo to everybody on Edwards contact list, the night before his birthday each year.

My seventh Christmas was hard. I spent it alternating between outrageous hissy fits, and quiet sobs because Charlie's job meant that he had to work abroad, and I had to go away from Forks to boarding school in Arizona.

During my eighth Christmas with the Cullens, I secretly drank from Carlisle's wine glass and then threw up on Edwards shoes. Edward was so mad that we didn't talk for a whole year.

During my ninth Christmas with the Cullens, I bought Edward a pair of shoes so he would talk to me.

During my tenth Christmas with the Cullens, Edward and I went for a walk. We got lost, and were found sleeping, frozen and clinging to one another on a park bench the next morning.

I spent most of my eleventh Christmas laughing at Edward's dishevelled/ spiky/ strangely sexy and alluring new hair-do.

I never knew that hair was even capable of eliciting such tingly feelings.

It was during my twelfth Christmas with the Cullens when things got really complicated.

Alice and Emmett were seeking, Edward and I were hiding. Closet claustrophobia turned into shy curiosity and silent exploration. Edwards mouth was the softest, most delightful thing I had ever tasted. A kind of heady elixir that quenched my thirst, but never sated me enough.

It was during my thirteenth Christmas with the Cullens that I flashed my (barely there) boobs at Edward.

I spent most of the fourteenth Christmas ignoring Edward due to my continued embarrassment from the year before.

During my fifteenth Christmas with the Cullens, Edward told me he loved me. And then he took it back again.

It was our sixteenth Christmas together, when it finally happened. Our foreplay got out of hand, and Edward and I did the deed. Except I forgot to tell him something kind of big, and he got mad at me. And then I almost punched him, so Edward yelled at me. Then I got drunk, and Edward sulked.

Most of the seventeenth Christmas was both spent ignoring/glaring/jibing at each other. When Emmett proposed to Rosalie, I forgot how mad I was at Edward… but then I spilt wine over him, and it started again.

Last year, the eighteenth, was perhaps our most sane, and least complicated Christmas to date. Edward and I said hello, and we were polite. We played Christmas games, and we were polite. We told Christmas stories next to the fire like we did every year, and we were polite. We had Christmas dinner… yet again, we were polite. We said our goodbyes like acquaintances who had barely known… or were quickly forgetting.

As I get closer to the Cullens Christmas cottage, I can't help but wonder if the end of our complex relationship means thd end of a love affair that never really blossomed.

Christmas with the Cullens were the best and worst moments of my life.

I take a deep breath. "Here I come, number nineteen."

***


	2. Chapter 1

**Big thanks to my beta - Fogwood**

**Christmas with the Cullens**

**Chapter 1**

_**December 19**__**th**_

"_Here I come, number nineteen."_ I mumble to myself as I stare at the jagged blur off green and yellows that surround the freeway.

"Huh?" Alice asks fiddling with a fuzzy radio signal, "What are you mumbling about, Bella?

"The joys of Christmas." I say morosely.

"Aren't you excited?" Alice chirps happily.

Alice is always much too chipper.

Any other day it could be called endearing…but it's almost Christmas, we're nearly at the cottage, and my stomach is so tightly twisted with nerves, that I'm finding it hard to breath.

So excuse me for being a little grumpy.

"Ecstatic. And keep your hands on the _goddamned_ wheel." I say with clenched teeth.

Clearly not picking up on my previous sarcasm or choosing to ignore it completely, she places her hand back on the leather encased steering wheel of Jaspers 1960s, heavily protesting, yellow Mustang.

"It's been far too long. Esme keeps complaining that I never come visit from college…but second year just takes the biscuit. Though you look exhausted too, Bella."

I blink. Only Alice would use phrases like "take the biscuit" and be completely serious about it.

"I had a brutal exam," I moan, " I haven't slept in two fucking days."

I tactfully omit the part about it being Christmas that made me feel even more on edge. A Christmas that included Edward.

Edward kind of took away my ability to drop to an easy asleep.

Ours was relationship that had dwindled with time. So why did he still have the ability to affect me like this?

Tossing and turning.

Butterflies in my stomach.

Exhaustion and nail-biting.

The utter inability to think of anything else.

And all that other pointless crap.

"I'm sorry." Alice pouts, tapping my knee apologetically. "Three hour tests on the last say of semester, are plain unfair"

"I would have told Svenson where to shove it and ran like the wind." Jasper says from behind us, proving his worth as a philosophy major.

I glance in the rear-view as he unwinds from the ripped leather seats and rubs his sleep-filled eyes.

Jasper and Alice were like yin and yang. Where Alice was an instantly likeable, endearingly cute perfectionist, Jasper was a heavy metal and ripped jeans loving, tongue in cheek slob.

His tardy, emo-ish ways meant that I had taken an instant liking to him. He also was also my hash supplier (an added bonus).

"Not that I have anywhere to run to," I say glumly, "Charlie is on the other side of the country and I doubt Arizona State Board would exactly welcome me with open arms."

"Carlisle and Esme would have you in Forks anytime you want," Alice says, her eyes shifting, "_y'know..._ in case of a relapse or something."

"You make it sound like I need rehab."

"Don't you?" Alice giggles.

"From red-bull, maybe. And I bet even Carlisle would tell you the marijuana is totally mislabelled as a drug…. ask Jasper to empty out his pockets if you don't believe me," I say after Alice raises her eyebrow in a challenging look.

Jaspers grunts from behind us, "Yet somehow, everybody else manages to smoke up without burning down academic buildings. And shit, keep your mouth shut about my stash, Bella."

"I speak only the truth."

"And I'm Virgin Mary."

"Really?"

"No more joints for you. Ever."

"You'll come back to me when you're all loser-like and lonely!" I say turning to blow Jasper a fake kiss and then turn back to Alice. "Can't you push this ghost cart a little faster? I want to get to the cottage by sunset."

The magnificent mixture of pink and red that highlighted the sky at sunset was a view that could easily be labeled a tourist attraction if the cottage was located anywhere less private. The stark colors envelope the cottage in a warm, rosy bubble and offset the surrounding rusty yellow undergrowth and crisp white of the snow covered trees.

Though my favourite, without a doubt, was the lake.

The lake was beautiful. It appeared through the tangle of trees to the right of the cottage. The frosty, muted blues glaze the area in a picture of Christmas perfection. _S__omehow _Carlisle had managed to buy heaven on earth and have his family reunite there every Christmas. It reaffirms my conspiracy that he is somehow the secret ressurection of Christ...but more about that later.

"Speaking of the cottage, I think Edwards invited a friend from UCLA this Christmas," Alice says in a much too nonchalant tone, "how are things between you guys by the way?"

I roll my eyes, "Real subtle, Alice."

Alice was the greatest Edward/Bella enthusiast to ever exist, and never shy about admitting it either.

She giggles, "Thanks. Am I getting better?"

"No. Stop."

"I feel like I haven't caught up with you in like forever, Bella." She pouts, knowing I can't resist a good guilt trip.

I sigh loudly in protest, but because I'm so fucking easy, I give in anyway.

"I think last year gave light to the fact that we're not these bratty, gropey children anymore. We've grown up and moved on. I'm dating, and I've heard stories about Edward kindly knobbing every willing female on the UCLA campus."

This probably meant every single female on campus.

I hate to think how willing these girls were with Edward.

Like what i_s _it about him?

I just don't get it all.

Ok well, maybe there are couple of really minute things.

Like, he's smart. Really smart. And manages to quite often slide out of bed looking like a fucking God… but shit, the way girls react, you would think his dick was gold plated or something.

Trust me, I've been there, and it's not.

"I'm not so sure about the bratty thing and wait, you're dating?" Alice asks, confused.

"Mike."

"Mike… _Newton? _Since when?"

"Last month," I say off-handedly, "We're quite serious, you know."

We weren't. But hah, take that Miss Match-maker.

"Since when does two dinners constitute as serious dating, Bella?"

Damn. I can't fault the girl on her memory.

"We kissed," I say with a toss of my head.

"You did?"

"Outside my apartment"

"Risqué, that Mike Newton," Jasper says deadpan from the back.

"Well at least it's not awkward."

"No, " Alice bites her lip, "But _he's_ awkward."

"He's the star-fucking-quarterback."

"And at college all your high school standards fly out of the window. Didn't you swear to dance on cheerleader's tombs?"

Suddenly Alice looks upset and there's one thing about Alice you shoud know: she barely ever gets upset. Hell the only time I've ever seen her really upset was when her friend Jeremy ran over a mongrel dog. But then was sorted with five minute cry session and a starbucks. So _this _is a little odd.

"You make me sound like a traitor."

"More like Newton's personal cheerleader," Jasper says from behind us.

Without looking behind me, I flip him the bird.

Alice sighs and runs her hand through her hair before glancing at me sideways.

"What about Edward?" Alice says pouting like a girl who's lost her puppy.

"What _about_ Edward?"

"I mean… I just thought…maybe someday you guys would resolve your weirdo issues …" Alice sniffs.

Wait. Is she going to _cry?_

I run my hand through my hair in distress and then it hits me.

"Christ, you actually planned our wedding, didn't you?" I accuse.

"What? _No_…well_ maybe_… I guess I have thought about it," Alice pauses and smiles at me through watery eyes, "like we could do it sometime in autumn. The cottage would be absolutely beautiful, all red and yellow leaves, and we could coordinate the bride's maid dresses to match accordingly. The ceremony would be at the lake, I know you love it there, Bella… "

"Whoa, _whoa!"_ I sit up straighter in my seat. If I wasn't so freaked out I would have probably shed a tear or two because damn it did sound beautiful… but Edward and I? It just wasn't going to happen.

"You know Edward and I have never dated, right?"

The question is rhetorical because Alice spends most of her extra curricular time trying to set us up.

"I know." She says batting her lashes all innocently and shrugs her shoulders.

"Jasper, your girlfriend is a freak," I reveal.

"And don't I know it," says Jasper dreamily.

I won't ask.

"Okay. _Okay._ " says Alice throwing her hands up, "I know I'm going a bit far, but it's you and Edward. It would be perfect. I just don't get why you two don't…." she trails off, shaking her head.

"Hands on the wheel, Alice! And why we don't _what?"_

"I know I'm flogging a dead horse," she says slamming her hands on the wheel. "but why don't you two just _date?"_

"The horse is a decayed, diseased skeleton," I say morosely, "Look, our relationship--"

"--just isn't like that." Alice finishes off for me.

"Exactly."

"Yet you spend every Christmas getting it on like dogs in heat." Jasper sounds bored.

"We do not!" I cry vigorously, "We had sex once. It was awkward, and barely even sex. In fact, I think my hymen may still be intact."

He starts to laugh. "Edward would be charmed to hear that. Though, you do know there isn't just one type of sex, right?"

"What did Edward tell you?" My skin heats up with embarrassment, because some of that stuff just should _not_ be shared, "Because it's all a lie." I add, "A complete lie…. and I was completely wasted when it happened. We were in the Vanquish and I kind of … and then he… God… I'm going to kill him!"

Ok, so we got a little drunk at Rosalie and Emmetts wedding. But shit happens, right?

There's an awkward silence after my outburst.

"Uh, no he didn't say that."

"Was it that thing in Esme and Carlisle's bedroom two years ago? Because that barely counts…. And if you're talking about the year before that, we--"

"Shit, Bella. Edward didn't actually say anything…and whatever that is about Carlisles bedroom _gross_." Jasper is actually clutching his stomach in laughter, and Alice turns away from me hiding a smile with her hand.

I throw my head back against the smoky seat. Shit.

We _do _get it on a lot.

"This is just stupid. It's got to stop… we just… _I just_…"

I trail off not knowing where I'm going with this.

So, Edward and I screwed around. A lot. Big, damned, deal.

"That's why I think –"

"No," I say to Alice, "just, no. Edward and I are friends. Just friends, please get that. I mean I've known him forever he could be a brother to me, i'ts like –"

Jaspers is laughing so hard I think he might be dying .

Alice looks mortified as she turns toward me, "Bells, I know you're an only child so that's why I feel I should explain, and you should listen very carefully when I tell you … what you and Edward have is _anything but_ _brotherly_. You guys are barely even friends."

"We've been friends!" I say adamantly. "We gave each lots of moral support when Charlie left, and there was no inappropriate touching either."f

"You were seven, Bella."

"Look," I defend, "I'm just making a point here."

"That Edward's your brother?" Jasper says wiping tears from his eyes.

I sigh.

"People evolve, relationships change, they grow apart, they become friends, brotherly, _whatever._ What Edward and I have just wasn't meant to be romantic, because really, if it was, it would have been by now."

Wow, that makes no sense whatsoever, but somehow Alice manages to understand me. She gives a long look, then sighs and shrugs.

It's silent for a while as we move off the freeway and drive through narrower roads.

"As much as I want this, you're right," she finally agrees, "Some thing's just don't work in the way you expect them to. Well, at least you can be nice to him now."

It surprises me she's given in so fast.

Wait. What is this about being nice?

Alice turns into a gravel driveway in front of a large, well-groomed lawn that leads to the grey-slabbed cottage. There are already four cars parked to the right. Rosalie's red convertible, Carlisle's Mercedes, Emmett's crazy wrangler jeep, and Edward's black Vanquish.

I look away because suddenly I'm remembering things that I don't want to.

Alice gracefully slots Jasper's car into the remaining car space and we all step out.

I wrap my arms around myself, as the cold hits my bare arms. The sun has just started to set, and my empty stomach has started doing some really out of control stuff.

"I don't know what you're talking about Alice. I'm always nice, aren't I Jasper?" I say persistently, following Alice to the boot of the car.

Jasper throws me my rucksack, and pulls out Alice's carry case. He shrugs, "If giving head constitutes as being nice, then Edward probably thinks you're the nicest person in the world."

My mouth drops. "Bite me."

I stomp off, not caring that they've probably proved their point.

"Bella, stop!" Alice says from behind me, but I ignore her as I make my way across the freshly cut lawn.

It was probably easier trying to get water out of a stone than trying to stop their ribbing about Edward and I.

I hoped this friend from UCLA was cute. I would get my freak on with him just so I could prove a point: I was utterly over Edward.

Because honestly, being so often found _under _Edward was just ridiculous.

I'm so caught up in mental sparring, that I walk straight into a huge figure that looms in front of me seemingly from nowhere.

"Oh my god, Emmett!"

I take a step back and brace myself as Edward's older brother grabs me in a huge hug that probably leaves me in need of rib reconstruction. "Welcome back, beautiful," then probably noticing my greasy hair and the strange smell of Jaspers kill-me mobile, he adds, "wash much?"

"Charming, Emmett. I had a test." I explain like it's the answer for everything, and unsuccessfully try to dodge away as he messes my already messy hair. Thankfully he notices Alice and moves past me to swing her around the lawn like a screeching rag doll. Because Alice's legs almost hit me in the face twice, and an overtly enthusiastic Emmett makes me a little scared, I quickly move toward the porch where Rosalie is standing in a figure-hugging, bright red dress.

I greet her and she greets me back in the polite, distanced way that she normally does.

"You look… interesting." She says eyeing me over her glass of water.

"You look pregnant," I say because she is, and I knew she will hate me forever for saying it.

"Do you see, Bella? My daughter!" Emmett says in grand introduction of…nothing as he moves forward to touch Rosalie's completely flat stomach.

"She's a big 'un." I smile widely.

Rosalie glares at me irately whilst Emmett grins proudly.

"I can't believe I'm going to be a grandmother," Esme says from behind me. She moves forward to embrace me and drop a kiss on my forehead. "Look at you, every time I see you, you become more and more beautiful."

"Aw, shucks." I grin. "I know theres a reason I keep coming back."

"You'll look like a new Aunt," Jasper (charming bugger) says to Esme and she moves to hug him too.

Carlisle joins us, and after everybody has greeted everybody else, and Rosalie has just mutely nodded at them, Alice excuses herself inside whilst the rest of us make chit chat on the porch. I update them on my life. Or the lack thereof. I tell them about settling in at College. I tell them that Charlie still calls weekly, and he has this new girlfriend - Renee. I tactfully omit my personal opinion on Renee, but tell them to buy ear plugs when she comes to visit this Christmas with Charlie. Eventually the conversation moves back to Rosalie's non existent baby bump, and I manage to excuse myself.

I throw my rucksack near the entrance and absently walk the dark wood floors of the hallway, glancing at familiar pictures of Esme and Carlisle's wonderful life and travels that hang the wall. There are a couple of pictures of young Emmett, Alice and Edward. It always astounds and frightens me how much they all looked alike as babies – all reddish brown hair, button noses, and much too long eye lashes.

I wonder if I should warn Emmett? Because adding Rosalie's genes to the mix was going to make create some inhumanly beautiful freak of nature.

My eyes snap toward a picture I haven't seen before, and suddenly my stomach twists in raw emotion.

Edward is probably around five years old, his profile faces down toward the floor, eye lashes shadowing his cheeks, and his mouth covered in chocolate. My grubby fingers grab his forehead, and my eyes peek over his head looking straight at the camera, as I'm leaning in to kiss him.

Suddenly my throat feels all constricted from something I never knew was coming, and because I don't know what else to do, I move on.

I stop in front of the large hallway mirror and wince at my appearance. I have a new visitor - a small pimple on my chin which excellently compliments my shaggy hair and bruised eyes.

I turned to my side.

Well, I might not be Rosalie when it came to the looks department, but at least I had boobs that weren't ever going to sag without a bra. So there.

After trying and failing to touch my nose with my tongue to prove my wonderfulness to myself, I keep walking the never ending hallway

As I near the kitchen, I hear murmuring and a rich chocolate cake aroma hits my nostrils.

I stop at the entrance of the slightly ajar door. Alice is sitting on a stool, her flowery dress flows around her making her look much younger than normal.

My eyes jerk to the left, and I instantly recognise the auburn, disarrayed hair. Edward's back is to me. His hand spread over the edge of the counter and his full-sleeved grey shirt accentuating the muscles on his back, as he pushes his body back and forth using the soles of his sneakers whilst talking to Alice. He stops when I approach, and then turns around to face me as I stand silently in the doorway.

"Hey you."

I'm surprised that my heart still slams in my chest when we come face to face and my breath still whooshes out of my mouth at the way his voice captures my name. I've never heard anything quite like it.

"Edward." I grin in response.

He looks different.

His face is even more defined, and I notice his body is more sculpted too when he embraces me… but his smell, God…its still so familiar.

"You look good." He lies easily as he takes in my hobo-like appearance. His eyes start at my hair, and go to my braless chest, to my skinny jeans, carry down to my open toed gladiator sandals which I'm wearing with white socks (it was cold, okay?), and then come back up and stop at my chest.

In instant reaction, my nipples become icy hail stones that strain through my thin shirt, toward him. I cross my arms over my chest in a defensive reaction, immediately awkward.

No.

I can not allow this.

Edward is a friend. Just a normal, non-lover-like, friend (who I accidently made love to).

And just to demonstrate this, I add "How have you been buddy?" and then punch him on his arm.

If Edward is surprised at my change of tactic from last Christmas (I was all sullen and moody) he hides it well.

"Busy as hell," he says trying to unsuccessfully brush away weirdly angled hair that always sticks up his forehead, "How's Annenberg?"

"Probably busier," I say cockily, resisting the difficult urge to brush his stray hair back for him.

"You _do_ look exhausted, Bella." Edward admits.

Bella.

Why does it feel like so long since I've heard him say my name?

Probably because it has been that long.

Too long.

I shrug. "It's hard work." I then make a show of wiping fake sweat off my brow.

Uhuh, I really am that much of a moron.

"Making up stories must hurt the brain, huh?"

Touche, Edward.

"Terribly." I say with my eyes wide, and just because I can't help myself, I take a step toward him and say, "Anything you can prescribe me _doctor?_"

Edward raises his brow in a way that's annoyingly familiar and naturally he's moving toward me his mouth is opening in much anticipated reply, but for some reason our company feel the need to make us aware of their presence at this inconvenient time.

Alice coughs, and Edward's friend (the cute dude that he was meant to bring along) clears his throat. Except it doesn't sound like a dude at all. It sounds like a girl.

My eyes shift, and then I'm looking at Venus, the Goddess of fucking beauty. Seriously, she almost puts Rosalie to shame. The girl is all high cheek bones, pillowy lips and light blue eyes. She has straightened blonde hair that sits perfectly at her shoulders and legs the go on forever. And even though her boobs are like 5 times larger than mine, I just_ know_ they probably stand completely pert when she's braless too.

Bitch.

If I didn't know what was coming next, I would have probably turned lesbian. But I instantly hate her because fucking hell, if she ever mates with Edward their kids would be caged and tested because they would be_ that_ beautiful.

Edward moves back toward her, "Bella meet Tanya, Tanya, Bella."

"Hi!" she smiles widely, and the whiteness of her teeth temporarily blinds me. "I've heard a lot about you, _Bella_."

She makes my name sound foreign.

_Bell-ugh. _As if I were an entity, a thing.

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. "So you're Edwards 'friend'." I say in an accusing manner.

"Oh. I'm sure Edward must have mentioned…" she trails off and looks awkwardly at me (probably because I'm still staring hatefully between her chest and her luminous teeth).

When I don't answer she continues anyway.

"Well," she giggles and tosses her head, "It's a bit of an odd story, but in a nutshell we met through a mutual friend at Edwards birthday party."

Right. The birthday party that I wasn't invited to.

I take a deep breath and then another.

She leans back into Edward and kind of kisses the underside of his jaw (my favourite part of him) and then smiles languorously back at me.

"I think I've got to throw up," I say and run toward the bathroom.

*****

TBC: Please review if you want more!

**(in case of confusion, a short history)**

Emmett is 23, Rosalie, Alice, Jasper are 21, Edward amd Bella are 20 and 19. Alice is at USC studying Graphic design and Fashion, Bella is at USC studying International journalism and creative communications, Jasper is at USC doing law and philosophy, Edward is a pre-med student at UCLA.

Emmett, Alice and Edward are siblings. Emmett and Rosalie are married and live in Seattle. Jasper and Alice have been dating for two years.


	3. Chapter 2

**Ahh thankyou all for all your replies, I really enjoyed reading them.. .and sorry if I didn't reply to you last time. I will try and get back to everyone this time. New chap. Enjoy!**

**Christmas with the Cullens**

**Chapter 2**

After dry-retching in the bathroom for twenty minutes I find Emmett, Rosalie and Alice hiding out in the drawing room. Jasper sits on a chair in front of the fire, wearing sunglasses and casually chewing a cigar. I'm much too disgruntled to embrace the _what the fuck?_ moment.

"Eye spy with my little eye…" Rosalie is saying.

Uh…but seriously,_ what the fuck?_

"I didn't know Bella! " Alice cries in panicked tones as she sees me half stumble in.

I ignore her, and throw the pack of cards I picked up on my way on the panelled coffee table. "Cards. But there's clearly much morfe entertaining stuff going on around here."

There's an awkward silence as everyone stares at me like they've seen a wild, rabid animal walk into the room.

"Did Santa die or something?"

More silence.

"I don't wear underwear." I offer.

"I thought Tanya was a guy too." Jaspers comments, trying to offer some type of reassurance from behind the shade of his glasses.

"I still think she is," I snort "You know, chick with a dick."

No response.

Jeez, who am I kidding? The girl is like a curvlicious, gravity defying, walking, talking, Barbie doll. In fact, Barbie pales in comparison. Barbie is Tanya's subordinate, ugly, step sister.

Even if Tanya willingly showed me her dick, I'd probably still believe that she's all woman. And since we're on this topic, I bet I know a bronzed haired someone who can tell me exactly how "woman" she is.

That sudden thought makes bile rise in my stomach, so I resort back to wearing my half smug, half pained expression (it normally works when you're not sure of what expression you're actually meant to be wearing).

"I told you didn't I? There's nothing between Edward and I."

Nothing.

This was clear proof that Edward felt exactly the same as I did.

Ready to stop. Over it. Moving on.

Fucking awesome.

"Are you okay with this, Bella? Because we can go back to Jasper's." Alice asks like I didn't say anything at all.

God, she's impossible. Does it really look like I care? Even a little bit?

Because I don't.

"I don't own him, Alice!"

Alice looks a little stunned at my explosion, Rosalie sighs loudly, and stares at the ceiling and Jaspers continues to chew his cigar thoughtfully.

"Look, it really doesn't matter to me." I announce, "And this is the last time I'm going to talk about it, okay?"

So Edward is dating.

Then he decides to bring some girl back home for Christmas.

Big damned deal.

He doesn't belong to me.

He can do whatever the hell he wants.

"I told you she would be okay with it," Emmett says clapping his hands and finishing off the topic that's reached its utter depths of discussion, "She's over my loser brother…and we know about the whole underwear thing, Bella." He consoles.

"Its tight and uncomfortable," I shrug.

"True-say. I would walk around commando, too, but Rosalie has an issue with it."

"Rosalie's strange." I say ignoring her stare me down glare, "So are they sharing a room?"

What?

Ok, so I'm just a _little _curious. Sue me.

"Who?"

"Tanya and Edward. _Are they sharing a room_?" I say like I'm talking to a bunch of imbeciles.

"Yes. The middle guest room." Rosalie says curtly. "Not that you'd care, right?"

My stomach spasms.

"Back to eye spy it is." I say glumly as I flop down on a nearby flowery cushion.

No. I don't care.

All this means is that they're having hot, beautiful person sex.

Or they're just getting off by staring at themselves in those huge vanity mirrors.

Either way it's okay with me.

Totally okay.

It's not making my blood boil at all. No siree.

"Eye spy with my little eye…" Rosalie begins again, "something beginning with. Oh!"

Edward and Tanya walk in.

"Oddity?" I say. Trying to get rid of naked Edward images that have suddenly assaulted me from nowhere.

Whoa.

"Mind if we join you?" Edward says strangely polite as he crosses his arms over his chest.

I try not to look at him.

Instead I think of running my hands over the hard planes of his chest.

I think of the sculpted V that disappears into his jeans.

I think of what comes below that.

I think of my mouth on what comes below that.

_I think I need to stop_.

The atmosphere shifts to fake formalities.

"Of course, please join! You can come sit here," Alice suggests, shifting on the couch.

Tanya pushes her chest out and giggles like Alice is highly amusing.

"We were just playing eye spy." Rosalie says in her fake "nice" tone, which isn't really that different from her normal tone.

"Oh. I love eye spy!" Tanya cries.

She would.

Jasper and Emmett ogle at her ass as she struts over to Alice and squashes herself on the seat next to her like they're best buddies.

A light murmur of superficial conversation begins and Edwards eyes shift and land on me. His sullen, hard faced expression makes my heart palpitate unhealthily in my ears.

I think of the heat of Edward's mouth on mine.

I think of Edward biting my neck (I know it's his secret, most favourite thing).

I think his mouth doing awesome things between my legs.

Christ.

Get the fuck out of here Edward, before I make a huge mess on Esme's carpet.

Edward makes a move toward me.

Don't come here. Don't come here. Do. not. _Oh._

He pulls up a beanie next to me.

"Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He gaze lands on my face, "Because you were throwing up in the restroom for the last twenty minutes."

"Ah." I answer with wisdom.

Edward leans toward me, and he's suddenly way too close, so I move back.

He eyes me quizzically, like I'm an especially complicated medical case-study that he can't figure out.

I fiddle with the gold frills on the cushion, ignoring him.

"Did you eat?" he asks after a long pause.

"I haven't slept much, but I'm fine." I say in a snooty tone. I hate when he gets all doctor like on me. It's like I'm his test patient or something.

"Exams?" he probes.

No.

"What else?" I glare at him like he's stupid.

Against my private wishes, Edward moves closer into my personal bubble and then suddenly the back of his hand is touching the side of my face.

"You're hot."

"I know." I shrug.

Our eyes meet, and despite myself, I can't help but break out into a huge, lame grin.

Wow. I'm so witty.

Edward rolls his eyes, but probably against his own wishes too, his mouth curves upward. His thumb caresses my cheek in this small movement that leaves me feeling way too tingly.

Oh shit.

I shift. "Always an excuse to feel me up, huh?" I move his hand away and it drops to his side, then I resort to staring at the red and gold patterning of Esme's carpet. I hope he doesn't notice my voice crack.

"I don't need an excuse."

Edward takes a hold of my wrist and lightly touches two of his fingers to my pulse.

I sigh. Did I ever mention that Edward can get really persistent?

Well yes he can.

And this is one of those annoying times.

Our eyes catch again, and suddenly, I hate the way he touches me, _experiments_ with me. Like I'm his fucking property. I snatch my wrist away from his fingers.

"Don't." I say stonily.

A second of shock gives him away and then he recovers just as fast, brushing his fingers through his hair nonchalantly.

"So eye spy, huh?"

"Eye spy with my little eye…" Rosalie begins for the hundredth time. It really must be her most favourite game in the world.

Tanya is clapping her hands all excitedly like a special five year old child. "I haven't played this in forever!"

"This is beyond dumb." I announce, and pick myself from beside Edward and walk out of the drawing room.

Just, really, who plays eye spy? I haven't played since I was five years old, and anyone that was willing to play it in their twenties was completely bored, mentally challenged, or a dumb-ass.

I'm clearly none of these things so I walk out of the front door, through the rain sprinkled lawn and past the tangle of dry bushes and trees that pepper the right of the cottage. Ducking, and scraping myself on the ragged branches, I follow a well worn path to the lake. As always it's almost completely frozen and I revel in the scene before me, the freshness of the air that I've missed in LA and the memories that come with just being here.

This is where I took my first steps, its where I fell and bruised my elbows and knees because of my rough and tumble activities with Emmett, this is where Alice and I would hide every single time we did something to annoy Charlie or Carlisle. This is my sanctuary, where I came to when Charlie left to move far away, or where I come when I needed room to breath.

I remember fooling around with Edward on the large log that reaches over the lake, I remember crying here, writing here, even sleeping here (it's cold and not recommended).

The lake doesn't have any answers, but it is still and unquestioning, and sometimes that's all I need.

Finally I've had my fifteen minutes of reminiscence, and I find myself to the kitchen with Esme, learning the art of potato peeling.

Seriously, there's a lot more skill that goes into skinning that bugger than you would think.

After I'm done annoying Esme and Carlisle with talk of my paper on Bollywood dance sequences, and even manage to demonstrate a couple, I find myself burrowed in my purple and silver, self decorated room that I claimed during my seventh Christmas with the Cullen's.

I'm enjoying humming Christmas tunes to myself so much, I almost skip dinner. However, because the smell of Esme's food is so damned alluring, I haven't eaten in 24 hours, and I'm quite curious about how those potatoes turned out, I find myself at the table before anyone else.

"Oh, look who came out of hibernation." Emmett says taking his usual seat, three down from me.

"Did you manage to spy Rudolph's nose with Rosalie's little eye?" I ask sarcastically.

"No, but we spy Santa coming and he's put in a special request for you to stop morphing into the Grinch." Edward says taking his usual seat beside me.

"Tell Santa I owe him nothing," I say playing with my fork, "in fact Santa probably owes me."

"You been doing Santa special favours, Bella?" he smirks, looking a little less sorrow filled than he did earlier.

"Oh no, I only save those for you." I smile widely.

Edward flinches and his reaction makes me feel good about life.

Take that Cullen; I can make you feel awkward too.

"Grinch," Edward mouths softly and then flicks my arm.

"Hey!" I growl, "Stop flicking me." Then I flick his arm right back.

"Make me." Edward says flicking me back again.

"Make me make you." I say stupidly, moving forward, but stop as soon as someone giggles from behind us.

"Hell." I groan, closing my eyes.

Dinner is of course, hell. This is due to a number of reasons. That are mainly to do with Tanya.

First, there are only 8 seats at the un-extended dining table. Plus, I'm a creature of habit, so it irks me a great extent when Tanya asks me if I can move over one, so she can sit with Edward. My response is typical: I hiss at her.

Alice, as usual, is much too giving and offers Barbie-bot (a fitting name, don't you think?) her own seat, so the happy couple can revel in their coupledom. Alice moves to sit next to Carlisle and Esme and shit, it screws the whole table plan up.

It ends up with me borrowing a stool, and being seated awkwardly between Esme and Carlisle, across from Edward.

Second, Tanya is a talker. When I mean a talker, I don't mean she talks all philosophically about life, music, drugs… or anything useful for that matter. She talks shit. Mainly about the designer shop that she owns courtesy of her investment banking father. And shoes.

How someone can have a non-stop, 30 minute conversation about the grip on Louis Vuittons is beyond me.

Third, you think her giggle is bad? You should listen to her laughter. It's fucking manic - like a hyena on his last supper.

Fourth, she refers to Edward in terms of endearment that would have made me kick any other person up the butthole and throw them in quicksand. Things like "buttercup", "sweatpea" and "sugar" are surprisingly common. I don't know how he puts up with it, because it looks like he's dying inside every time she speaks.

Fifth she sticks out her chest in every opportune moment. Even when she's speaking to Carlisle.

Sixth, if I have to suffer anymore of this shit I know I will voluntarily commit suicide. In fact, from the looks of it, our whole table is likely to follow my example.

Forty minutes in, Emmett is making neck sawing motions at me, Jasper is even more spaced out than usual, and Rosalie looks mildly pained. It's an achievement on Tanya's part, because Rosalie doesn't do any expression (apart from the glaring irately at me) very well.

Tanya is talking excitedly to Alice who, despite her love for fashion, looks like she's finding it hard to follow anything the blonde says.

"So you know, Edward and I were randomly at the mall and I saw these cow skin boots by Karen Millen, with this really cute, new kind of purple frill. They were the type of shoes that look good with anything yet are still slightly eccentric, you know? Actually the first time I saw them, this is what went through my head. I actually thought 'these shoes are so beautiful, I could die!'"

"So why didn't you?" I spit out against my own will.

Emmett snorts in his napkin.

"Excuse me?" Tanya asks me with perfectly raised brows.

"Buy them!" Alice saves for me shrilly, "She's asking why you didn't buy the cow skin boots."

"Oh," Tanya looks temporarily satisfied with Alice's answer, "I was tempted, but Edward said he would buy them for my next birthday. Didn't you Sugar?" She reminds, placing her hand on his arm.

I glance at Edward, who is sitting with head down; playing with his food like it's the most interesting thing in the world.

"Hm," he says without looking up from his plate, "sure."

"Oh! I can't believe I almost forgot!" Tanya sits up suddenly, making Jasper jump up on his seat beside her (he actually fell asleep). "Carlisle, Esme, you must see this! This is what Edward bought me last week. It was our 6 month anniversary by the way," she gushes, flashing a glistening ruby embedded bracelet on her palm. "He's really generous, guys!" She says it like we're meant to stand up and applaud. She then throws Carlisle a smile that creeps me the fuck out, "he must have gotten it from his father."

"He sure is," Carlisle returns with a polite smile. "Though I hope you're being generous about saving up for med-school too, Edward." Its clearly a veiled warning and Edward looks up at his father, before running his hand through his tousled hair and muttering something ineligible that sounds like "I am" under his breath.

"Well," Esme smiles widely, trying to avert tension, "I'm glad that you're here, Tanya, it's good to have Edward introduce us to someone he cares about …. What about you? Are you seeing anyone special, Bella?"

Gah.

I stop in between chewing a mouthful of peas and then swallow them whole.

"Um. Sure," I splutter, trying not to choke, "I mean, yes. I am."

I ignore Alice rolling her eyes. Edwards head snaps up, his eyes dark and for the first time since the beginning dinner he looks interested. I put down my fork, embracing the shift in attention.

"His name is Michael Albert Francis Newton. He's the star quarterback," I announce throwing a look at Alice, "and his father owns mills in USA, and Russia."

"Oh, that's wonderful, Bella!" Esme says happily.

"Yes, he _is_ wonderful. He's going to be a lawyer you know. He's brilliant and clever and funn—"

"Newton?" Edward interrupts, his expression suddenly amused. "Originally from Washington?"

"Yes, you know him?"

Please don't let Edward know him.

Please, please God for once in my life let it work out_ my_ way.

"Pretty well actually," Edward muses, "UCLA has played your team lots of times."

Ah. Fuck. Who was I kidding? Things never worked out my way.

"He's completely brilliant isn't he?" I say keeping my smile plastered.

"Yes," says Edward folding his hands under his chin, "And completely homosexual."

"I knew it!" Jasper proves his presence the first time since dinner by banging the table in zeal and making everything wobble. Tanya throws an amused look my way and Emmett howls with laughter as I brighten considerably.

"No, he's not!" I splutter, mortified. "He's clearly and utterly not gay. _I _would know."

"He is completely gay, Bella." Edward confirms.

"No."

"Yes."

"Please then enlighten me on how you've come to this very concrete conclusion?"

"Well, let's just say I've walked into way too many of his locker room 'incidents.'"

"Bullshit! You're lying."

"Now, now children." Emmett teases.

"I think _you're_ lying." Edward accuses, ignoring Emmett.

"Why would I lie?" I challenge.

"Tell me Bella, can you tell me what his penis looks like?"

"Edward Cullen!" Esme warns, "Enough."

Edward glances at his mother in acknowledgement, but he's on so much of a roll he can't seem to stop. "Because the entire male population of UCLA probably knows it better than you, and that's really saying something." He pops the final (finely cut) potato from his plate, into his mouth, and puts his fork down as if to end our debate.

By this point Tanya, Jasper and Emmett are green with hysterical laughter. Even Carlisle looks slightly amused.

I want to either kill Edward or just drown myself in the lake outside. Unfortunately, the kitchen utensils are not sharp enough and the lake is frozen over, so I resort to throwing him the malevolent looks I practiced in my bedroom earlier.

I hate him.

Amidst all the chaos Edward shrugs a little like he wasn't expecting this reaction from the others, and mouths a "sorry". The thing is, I can't tell if he's serious or just being an arrogant dick.

I go with the arrogant dick.

I just don't get it. I don't get how he can be this really gentle guy, who stubbornly checks my pulse to see if it's running right, to this complete prick that is just plain mean.

"Asshole." I mouth at him.

Edward looks down at the table and then looks back at me and smirks, "Grinch."

I'm just about to lunge at him, when Esme manages to cleverly avert the situation once again. She really should look into a career in diplomacy.

"Carlisle brought some extra Mint-Chocó éclairs from France. There's two left in the kitchen…" Is all she manages to say, and both Edward and I stop from throwing harrowing glares at one another.

My glass clangs against my plate as I jump up and skid from my chair, crashing through the doorway, and into the kitchen.

I know Edward is hot on my heels as I run.

Let's just say it can get quite interesting when Carlisle comes back with candy from France. I would spill blood for Carlisle's French Mint-Chocó éclairs. Unfortunately Edward is ready to do the same.

"They're in the cabinet!" Carlisle says from behind us, laughter in his tone.

Cabinet.

Which one?

We both take our separate picks. I fly toward the one on my right and Edward to the one straight ahead.

"Kids, please be careful in there!" Esme says sounding worried, "And mind the Wedgwood china!"

Candy of all colours, plastic bags, Christmas stockings, sticky tape and brillo pads are just some of the things that adorn the floor around me, as I search for my prize.

Suddenly, I'm so alive it's amazing. All the energy Tanya seems to have sapped from Edward and I, is back with a vengeance. All because of Carlisle's French Mint-Chocó éclairs, too.

Aha.

I hit jackpot.

I squeal as my hand curls around one delicious, circle shaped chocolate candy and then another. I breathlessly pull two out, unwrap one and shove it into my mouth, whole.

Hell, I know where next years loan money is going to be spent, and it isn't going to be in visiting the Louvre.

"Hey!" Edward saunters toward me like I've just killed his dog. "Share." He demands.

I shove the second one in the back pocket of my jeans. "Woulb you?" I say in a superior tone, but it comes out a little skewed because my mouth is full.

"Yes." He answers without hesitation.

"Big fat libar."

"At least I don't lie about my relationships."

"At leabst I don't choose relationshibs with women on the basis of their tibs."

"Their what?"

I swallow. "Their tits, Edward. Tits."

Edward cocks his head, and has somehow gotten me cornered with my butt against the sink. I know he's thinking rude thoughts when he says, "Pity, that."

I put my hands behind me on the sink, still facing him. I don't realise how much that actually makes my chest stick out until Edward's eyes flick away from my face and below my neck and then eventually back up again.

"Okay," Edward sighs, "Let's be rational."

Of course. Ever rational Edward.

"Rational." I nod.

Not that I was ever going to give in. However missing any opportunity that got Edward to beg was just plain stupid.

I think Alice was right, because damn, I was a mean, evil thing who loved having the upper-hand way too much.

Thank you Mint-Chocó-éclair makers. Thank you Carlisle. _Thank you_ France!

"Okay," Edward rubs his chin in thought, "there have been far more times when I've been generous with you than you have been with me."

I raise an eyebrow.

"Oh come on, I don't mean like _that, _Bella."

"Name them." I declare.

"Think of how fast you eat."

I shrug, "So?"

"Do you remember all those times when you were the first to finish Christmas pudding and I would give you mine, or all those times you'd finish your eggnog and I'd let you have mine?"

"You hate eggnog."

"I've shared my Mint-Chocó éclairs with you, too!" Edward says changing tactic, "When we were eight," he points at me all riled up now, "I gave you six of mine."

"That's because you stole twelve of them and six of them _were_ actually mine."

"I only had four actually."

"Boo-hoo," I pout. "Do you remember last Christmas, Edward? Last Christmas you ate _five,_ and gave me one."

Last Christmasyou were being obnoxiously difficult."

"Are you saying that because I didn't suck your dick?"

Edward winces at my use of frank wording. "Jeez, Bella, no. I mean you were ignoring me, and being an utter snooty, top class, well, breed of female dog."

I snort at his characteristically polite yet succinct, putdown.

"You mean _bitch_, Edward"

"Well if you put it that way…."

"Foul mouth"

"Compared to you, _hardly_."

I glare at him. "_Oh please_, will you drop this _gentlemanly_ farce you feel the need to constantly put on. I've heard you curse words that would give Carlisle a stroke. And these accusations are precious coming from someone who took my virginity, then ignored me for two years after."

Edwards face drops, "Hey, it wasn't like that."

"Wasn't it?" I hiss.

Don't get me wrong. It was fun while it lasted.

But it would have been nice if Edward had acknowledged that something happened.

Instead we had spent much of our time ignoring each other, arguing, or pursuing other interesting "activities".

Edward groans and turns around, and I'm just about to embrace victory with an unreserved satisfaction when he mumbles, "screw rationalising."

He moves toward me so fast that everything's a blur, and then he's got me turned around against the sink, my left arm twisted behind me, and his body pressed against my back.

For a few seconds all I can hear is the slow dripping of the tap and his warm breath in my ear.

I breathe.

"You're making me uncomfortable." I say, slowly, because my mind has started to freeze up.

"Here I thought playing hard and rough was your thing." Edward says in my ear.

I shuffle. Edward presses into me harder, his spare hand curling around my hip.

Oh.

Was that what I thought it was….?

_OhmyGod. _I think I've _really_ stopped breathing.

This isn't the first time I've felt _that _part of Edward, yet each time it elicits extremely interesting responses from me.

The silence is phenomenal, and maybe it's pure habit, or maybe I'm curious to know how he'll react, I arch my back and press my butt into him.

He doesn't move.

So I sway my hips soft, slow, teasingly.

Edward is as still as a statue, giving nothing back, but his harsh breathing easily gives him away. He makes no attempt to take the chocolate that's in my back pocket, but his grip tightens around my waist so hard, it almost hurts.

Suddenly my breathing is acting up too, and my body trembles against my own will.

This was one of the moments, increasingly common between Edward and I.

Playful moments turning into something intense, unspoken, familiar.

Sometimes they were acknowledged afterward, more often than not, they weren't.

This time though, it was wrong.

I mean I had promised myself. And of course the small issue of Tanya the Barbie-bot.

I take a breath, then another and then I shove out my butt hard.

"_Oomph."_ Edward groans and lets go of me.

"Yes, I guess _it is_ my thing." I smirk.

Edward straightens up, "that's just playing dirty."

"When have I played any other way?"

I start to walk out.

Edward grabs my elbow, "Share, Bella."

"No."

"I'll have to get extreme."

I sigh loudly and turn to face him. I reach for the candy from my back pocket and hold it in front of me, directly in front of his face.

"Do you know what this is?"

Edward looks amused, "Um. I think I do."

"Even I know it's a heavenly tasting chocolate, but it's not_ just_ that Edward. To me, it's so much more. It's my childhood memories; it's the first gift Charlie ever bought me. It's my Christmas – hell it is the reason I celebrate it. I've never believed in Santa, do you know that Edward? But there is one thing I believe in. It's this Mint-Chocó-éclair. I've been deprived as it is, and I'll fight hard for this. I swear, I'll fight until my last breath, I'll struggle until I am no more, I'll fight until –"

Edward grabs the chocolate from my fingers, unwraps it in one single motion, and pops it in is his mouth.

My mouth hits the floor.

"I really would have waited for you to finish your speech, but it was getting a little extensive."

I scowl. "You're an ass, Edward."

"And you need to work on your negotiation skills, but I'll let that pass."

I watch as he licks the mint residue from the corner of his mouth. It makes my heart hurt, so I pick up some dirty dishes from the nearby counter and move toward the sink.

"Don't be upset." Edward says all smugly. "There's always next Christmas."

"Screw you."

"Yes," he muses, "You'll probably need a good one after Newton."

Jerk.

I let the water run in the wash basin, and plant my hands directly underneath the tap. I don't turn around and he doesn't touch me, although I know he's moved closer to me.

I try not to think about the warmth of his body as it leaks through my thin shirt, or the way his gentle breath in my hair is sending electric sparks up and down my spine.

"It wasn't like that, Bella."

"Huh?"

"When we were sixteen, after that_ time_…. It just wasn't like that."

I don't say anything.

I guess I should, because I know he's waiting. I don't look, but I can just imagine him, standing barely an inch away from me, eyes a darker shade than normal, expression all sullen.

What is there to say?

It was time to let bygones be bygones.

Time passes, and it feels like I've been standing forever with water running over my palms, and Edward just behind me.

I don't know for sure, but I'm almost positive that Edward has just moved toward the crown of my head.

Wait. Is he _sniffing_ my hair?

Before I can turn I hear him move away from me. I can hear cutlery being cleared away, someone mention our names and Alice's sing song voice becoming louder as she moves nearer to the kitchen.

"I'll see you inside, Bella."

And then without a word, he's gone.

Men are pigs.

Insolent, careless, jackasses.

You should know though, it's not just men that suck, some women do too.

In fact it's probably time to start buying those cats because people suck, in general.

I mean come on. After three sleepless nights you think that people would have common courtesy to let me sleep, right?

No.

The world has become this terrible, torture filled place.

That's exactly what I'm going through right now- _torture _of the worst kind.

As fate would have it, the thin walls between my room and the guest room prove that not only do Edward and Tanya enjoy a little bit of rough and tumble, they like to demonstrate just how much by being extremely vocal about it.

I pull the pillow tighter over my ears, but there she goes again.

"Unnnnhhhh…um, _faster_, unhhh, yes!"

Jesus.

I pick up a slipper and throw it at the far wall.

_Shut up Bitches._

In turn I'm greeted by a, "unhhhh… Edward that feels sooo goood!"

I can't take this anymore.

I throw the covers off me, stomp out of my room and swing open the door of the room to my left.

I notice the curve of Alice's body (thankfully Jasper's not here, otherwise things could get a little weird) and slip under the covers from the foot of the bed.

"Bella?" Alice asks, her voice groggy, as I sit up with the duvet over my head. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." I mumble.

Apart from I'm not.

Suddenly, I'm blubbering like a baby that hasn't cried in years.

I'm crying these tears that have come from nowhere, and everything just _hurts_.

Silent, without questioning Alice holds me to her breast as my body shakes with wretched sobs.

"Oh…m-my…it h-hurts…Edward-d…he… "

"Oh, Bella." Alice sighs sadly in understanding.

"I can't….s-stop t-thinking about h-him … I'm….I…" I glance up and Alice looks at me so sympathetically that against all logic, I just can't stop myself. " I think I m-may l-love him…oh _g-god_!"

"It's okay," she murmurs in my ear, like I'm not some nutter having a complete and utter breakdown, and haven't admitted to something I've spent most of my adult life suppressing and telling her to get off my case about.

"Shh. It'll be fine, Bella. I promise. Just…be strong …and patient. Patience... Okay?"

I nod in between anguished sobs because, more than anything, I want to believe her. I want to believe that life is all roses and candy. That some stuff was just going to _be okay._

But I guess it's not really a surprise to anyone– a lot of the time, life sucks, too.


	4. Chapter 3

Hey lovely people. I know this Christmas deadline passed by a long time ago, but it's still snowing in my country so I figured I'd keep going ;) Sorry about taking so long to update, Ch 4 should be with you shortly too. Enjoy.

**Christmas With the Cullens**

**Chapter 3**

_**December 20**__**th**_

I stand at the entrance to the kitchen the next morning, exhausted and sombre and hating the festive season more than usual.

I could say it has nothing to do with Edward, but after last night, who am I kidding?

Yes, I finally admit it – it has every damned thing to do with Edward.

Edward is on mind. Constantly.

He gets under my skin.

He irritates me like no other.

He hurts me like I've never been hurt before.

He heals me in more ways than I ever thought possible

He makes me feel _alive._

The thing is, as much as Edward affects me, I never have the same affect on him. At least, when I do it's only temporary and involves a lot of semi- naked fumbling.

So to tell you the truth, sometimes things can get a little screwy in my head. Last night being the perfect example.

I could try and label it, I _have _tried to label it, but the truth is our relationship stopped making sense a long time ago.

Edward isn't my boyfriend. He isn't a brother to me like Emmett is. He isn't my best friend like Alice, a buddy like Jasper or even an acquaintance like Rosalie.

Jeez - we couldn't even be called fuck buddies because technically we don't actually "fuck".

How screwed up is that?

There are times when I _do_ feel like I mean more to him than that. There's our history of course. We've grown up together and we'll always know each other inside out. But there are moments when I feel like there's even more than that. It's how he sometimes stands much closer to me than he has to. Its the way his says my name, like it's just meant to be said from his lips. Its how I'll catch him looking at me in a way that makes me wobbly and weepy at the same time.

Yeah. It's crazy.

Then other times I'm nothing to Edward. Void. Forgettable. Non existent.

It sucks.

It sucks being on this roller-coaster of emotion that keeps my feelings for him ping ponging all over the place. It sucks to feel like Edward's personal play-puppet - if he wills I just surrender.

It sucks that I give one person so much power.

And no matter how much I ignore him or yell at him or kiss him, this screwy thing between Edward and I gets weirder and weirder each Christmas.

There's just no running away.

God, I'm going to be like fifty with Edward Cullen still screwing with my head.

As I walk half way into kitchen my eyes widen and I'm instantly curious at the scene before me. After last night's wondrous and vocal nookie, I didn't expect Tanya to be found sitting on the counter with red rimmed eyes. Alice and Esme stand flanking her sides, as she sobs silently into her napkin like her cats had been wrung and shot. Edward sits across from them, looking just as miserable, head in hands.

"Tanya …" he begins moving arm toward her.

"Don't touch me." She says angrily swiping at his arm.

Well, hello.

For a joyous second I think they've broken up.

My heart sinks when Edward says, "look I'm really sorry. It was an accident."

What accident?

Oh shit!!!............. Is she pregnant?

"What can I do to make it up to you?" Edward continues, looking guilty.

Unless I'm missing something, I doubt one can really "make up" for getting someone knocked up. So I guess that's out too. Good.

"Keep away from me!" Tanya cries in an overly dramatic way.

Edward sighs and rubs the stubble on his chin in frustration.

I decide its time to add some new found Bella enthusiasm into the equation. I take a step inside the kitchen.

"Good morning!" I say in a much more cheery mood than I thought I could ever have mustered up five minutes ago. "How are we all today?"

Edward clearly cringes, which leaves me feeling mightily annoyed.

Would it hurt to show some enthusiasm once in a while?

Tanya's reaction is better. She bursts into a fresh wave of tears.

"G-god-d!" she wails, woefully burying her head into her hands.

I hate to admit my sadist tendencies, but _that _actually makes me somewhat festive.

*****

The rest of the day progresses in manner that makes me want dissolve in a barrel of acid.

Edward ignores me.

Rosalie bitches about my oinking pig slippers disturbing her sleep (she should try sleeping in _my_ room then).

Tanya and Edward gripe (this one isn't so bad, apart from it puts Edward in a foul mood). Which means Edward ignores me.

Jasper refuses to share his last joint.

Alice tries to plait my "unruly" hair.

Edward ignores me.

Christmas TV is awful.

I try to act all sophisticated at lunch and end up spilling banana smoothie over myself.

Tanya disregards Edward's attempts to make things better for whatever the hell he did to annoy her, and Edward ignores me some more.

Fuck this shit.

I'm so close to running back to the airport and booking the next flight back to LA. I mean who cares that my dorm-mate was probably in the process of ritualistically cutting herself and video-taping her group orgies (I was running late that morning and forgot to lock her out, yet again). One could get used to sleeping through all that noise, right?

After the added sum of last night, and this morning, I'm ready to endure anything.

Shit. I'm fucking hardcore.

In fact the only reason I've stuck it out at the cottage so far is because Esme keeps drifting out of the kitchen with these mouth-watering, mini, Christmas desserts, and offers them to me first. Of course, this could have something to do with the fact that I've been coolly skulking right outside the kitchen door for the last two hours.

But whatever, I do love me some homemade mince pie.

And its even kind of fun out here.

I might stand here all day. Especially if it means scaring the crap out of Tanya, when she rounds the corner and I just pop out from nowhere.

Seriously, the look on her face is precious.

I'm just about to scheme up more situations that involve Tanya having a possible heart attack and dying when Carlisle ruins my plans by kindly asking me to go help moody faced Edward collect some logs from the barn. I guess I've probably "surprised" him a couple of times too. And yes they have a barn in their backyard. Pretty cool, huh?

My internal voice cries out in protest, because Edward is being jerk-faced galore, and I would rather eat my shoe than go out to the barn with him. But I can never refuse Carlisle, so here I am.

In the barn. With Edward. Stocking up wood for the Christmas Cottage.

It sounds so weird when you say it out like that.

I could be in some surreal, smarmy novel.

I feel like I should be heating porridge and baking hot cross buns whilst Edward goes out to cut wood with an axe. He'd come back all hot and sweaty and we would make wild passionate love in the barn. After my tripled orgasms we'd light our fire together and eat mince pies all night.

Oh, and there would be no Tanya.

Except that's all fantasy and this is real life.

The logs have been pre-ordered, much to my vexation Tanya _does_ exist, and Edward has spent the whole day acting like I have really bad body odour.

It's like it's my fault that Tanya's all woeful about his horrendous love-making skills. That's the conclusion I've come to anyway.

I mean why else would she be crying and griping at him all day? And why else does Edward do everything _else_ with me but go the whole way? Being stuck in third base for two years was like smoking without the buzz. At first it's cool, but then you begin to wonder why you're being screwed over for no real reason.

Plus Edward can go to hell because I smell like spring flowers (I smelled myself, and got a second opinion from Alice too).

Edward crouches a few feet in front of me, inspecting logs to see if they're appropriate enough for Christmas fire. I watch hypnotically as his blue t-shirt outlines the muscles of his back and his biceps flex as he leans to grab a couple logs more that are further away from him.

Fuck. Even from behind he's exquisite. Beautiful and elegant and just…unreachable.

I shiver a little as the temperature drops.

I can just about make out the top of his black boxers and the smooth skin of his back as his shirt travels upward with his movements.

Then I tap my feet impatiently.

I cough.

I sigh even more loudly.

Edward continues to ignore me.

"Jesus, they're damned logs. What could their possibly be to inspect??!"

Edwards face turns half way toward me. In the oddly falling light his jaw twitches in annoyance.

I kind of gasp.

If I was an artist I would have pulled out my paintbrush to capture how beautiful he looks in this moment. He's all cheekbones and angles atop red pillowy lips in the shadowy light. Such obvious frustration would make any other person look demented, but Edward's clenched jaw just gives him even more edge.

Sometimes I forget he can look like _that._

But the thing is I'm not an artist. I just don't care that Edward has just taken my breath away, or that I could probably have painted the most beautiful picture to ever exist.

All I am right now is cold and kind of pissed at his asshole attitude. I can't be bothered to figure out what crawled up his ass because all I want to do is go back into the cottage. And possibly enjoy more mince pies.

"Look can you please speed this torturous process up? My arms are about to fall off." I moan nodding toward the four small logs in my arms. "They hurt."

They really do.

"I'm done." Edward says expressionlessly looking up at me from his crouched position. "Can you handle a couple more?"

It's the first time he's talked to me. It's the first real eye contact we've had all day, and shit I don't expect myself to get so out of balance.

I even wobble a little.

"I sure can." I squeak.

I'm such a moron.

Edward shakes his head condescendingly and then gets up and drops a couple more logs into my arms.

I turn and quickly start to move toward the exit as he moves back again, bending down to grab his own.

That's when I notice it.

The mother of all woodlice crawling up my arm.

"Oh my god!!!" I squeal and abruptly drop all the logs to the floor in panic, as I struggle with my offender.

I shake, and run and scream and jump and finally when the vile creature falls to the floor, I make a run toward Edward for protection.

"Oh my god! Did you see that?! Are there anymore on me?! It was so big! Look on my back! My hair!"

Edward isn't very helpful, so I resort to shaking myself like I'm having violent spasms. When I'm done, he does not look amused.

"Are you finished?"

"I think so." I breathe heavily, shaking myself off once more.

I really, really hate woodlice.

"It's a woodlouse. It's not going to eat you," Edward says sternly.

"I know that," I say in annoyance, "it's just so _gross."_

Edward glares at me in irritation and nods toward the fallen logs that lay scattered a few feet in front of us. "Will you pick those up?"

"No. It might be there still, watching and waiting for me."

"I'm sure that's exactly what its doing."

"There might be more, Edward."

He sighs, "It's getting late, Bella. Let's get back to the cottage."

"Yes, lets go." I start to walk in front of him, in a hurry to get out.

"With the logs."

Oh.

"Can't I pick other ones?"

"No."

"Let me have yours then."

"Bella."

"Please, I can't. I _won't."_ I say stubbornly stamping my foot.

Edwards silent for a second and then out of nowhere he lets me have it at gale force.

"Stop acting like a child and picked up the damned logs, Bella!!!"

His tone makes me jump and a heated mixture of anger and hurt blasts through my body.

Jerk.

"No! I won't!" I cry just as loudly, "Pick them up yourself! Asshole!"

Tears sting the back of my eyelids as I stomp toward the exit.

What the hell is his problem?

Whatever issue he has with Tanya, isn't my fault.

He had no right to treat me like this.

Dick.

Arrogant prick.

Ugly, non-paintable man.

I hate him.

Hate him. Hate him. _Hate him._

"Argh!"

I let out a high pitched scream as I trip over the logs that I threw to the ground earlier. Somehow I end up with my butt on the floor, a large log lodged underneath one of my legs, and my elbows on the ground behind me.

This is so damned typical. I can't even have my few minutes of dignified fury without doing something stupid.

"Stupid… jerk… wood…" I mumble trying to get up, but in the rush my hands scrape wood.

"Ow!"

I sniff a little as I notice splinters in my finger.

This is beyond humiliating.

"Can't you look where you're going for once in your life?" Edward looks down at me, adding salt to my wounds, "Get up." He says looking less angry than he did earlier. Despite his deep depressive state he even manages to look somewhat humoured.

Of course.

After all, I was just around to be laughed at.

Yelled at.

Screwed with.

Ass.

Edward holds his hand toward me.

I somehow manage to spin around and face the opposite direction. It's quite a feat with a log lodged just beneath my butt.

Edward sighs.

"G-go away Edward…. go back to your logs…. and your arsey attitude…" I sniff, "You can shove them… where the sun doesn't shine as far as I'm concerned…. Go back to pretending I don't exist. This is-bullshit. Bullshit!"

Suddenly I'm so fucking angry I could kill someone. At this rate it will probably be Edward.

I wait for his response, but there's none.

In between my sniffling and quite mumblings, I throw a quick glance behind me.

Edward has his eyes closed tight. His jaw is clenched, and it looks like he's really trying to figure something out in his head. Probably scheming up new and innovative ways to be a better prick. Not that he needed anything else. He had the prick thing down to a T.

Then he opens his eyes and drops his logs and kneels down, in front of me.

I swivel around once again.

Go away, jerk.

Edward sighs and crawls around so he's planted firmly in front of me again.

"Go away."

"No."

"I mean it, Edward."

"You're so tiring."

"You're such a jerk."

He shrugs, "I try."

"Ha-Ha."

I look everywhere but at him.

Edward looks at the outstretched, splintered, right palm that I'm holding with my left hand.

"Is your hand okay?"

"No it's not damned okay," I cry, and then add, "do _not_ touch it!" when he leans forward.

"Bella, please."

"No." I warn. "Don't you 'please' me. If I were you I would silently move away, covering my groin."

"Don't be silly."

Then he's got my face in his right palm.

"I know what you're doing." I warn.

I know what this is. This was his "technique". This is what Edward did to get me to mellow out when I get angry or to calm me down when I'm freaking out.

Or sometimes he just did it randomly, even when I didn't need calming down. I'm not entirely sure of the reason behind his actions then.

But right now, I'm so angry that I don't want him anywhere near me.

I knew what he was doing. It wasn't going to work.

Edwards thumb gently strokes my cheek and his palm touches my lips.

"Stop." I protest.

Then he does it again and I instantly melt.

I'm far too easy to please, but I don't want him to stop. Ever.

"Edward." I moan. It's a plea for him to stop and go on at the same time.

Go on to do what exactly, I'm not sure.

But it's been so long.

My body is depraved for him. His touch. His smell. His fingers on my skin, his arms around my body.

I miss him.

"Why must you be so… impossible?" Edward says in a voice that sounds much too husky with desire to be stern.

Then his free hand touches my right hand. Long eyelashes shadow his cheeks as his attention shifts to my splintered finger, but he doesn't stop stroking my face.

Despite all my stern, internal lectures, my self-control is appallingly weak.

I'm not entirely sure why I do the next thing that I do.

I'm compelled and just can't seem to stop myself.

In one large stroke from his wrist to the top of his palm, I lick his hand.

Edward eyes jerk toward me in shock.

Well, I guess he wasn't expecting that one, huh?

He tastes… well, mainly of wood and sawdust, but under all of that he tastes like I always remembered. Like the mint flavoured gum he chews, the newspaper he reads, the soap he uses, the aftershave he wears. Like Edward.

I almost sigh out loud.

I don't care if he gets all mad and yells at me again, but I needed that.

I needed him.

_God_, I need him.

He doesn't look mad though. He looks like he's struggling with some unnamed emotion again.

"Bella…" he says in a voice that makes goose pimples spring up on my arms.

I lean closer to him.

_Yes?_

He runs his hand through his hair, looks around the barn, struggles some more and tries again, "Bella, there's--"

The barn door swings open and Edward jumps back from me, like he's been electrocuted.

It hurts my heart.

"Fancy finding you guys here," Tanya says in an accusatory tone, "Excuse us, Bella. Edward and I need to talk."

I ignore her and continue to stare at Edward, wanting him to finish what he just started saying.

I_ needed_ him to finish.

Edward's eyes are still held tight with mine. I don't look away.

_Please._

Edward looks at Tanya and uses his hands to propel himself up.

"Let's go outside, Tanya."

He stops at the exit. "They're just splinters; you can use Alice's tweezers to get them out."

Then he turns and walks out.

Just like that.

Gone.


	5. Chapter 4

I'm not sensing a lot of Edward related affection. Haha. Well, if you liked him in the last chapter, you'll love him after this one. Or not ;)

**Christmas With the Cullens**

**Chapter 4**

Emmett wolf-whistles as I walk out of Alice's ensuite bathroom wearing a tiny black ballerina skirt and a corset top with a frill that barely covers my extremely enhanced bosom. Tying up the corset up took up much more effort then I'm usually willing to put into clothes, but shit this stuff is amazing.

Voila! Like magic, I have fucking cleavage!

To add to my ensemble, I wear 5 inch stilettos with ribbon that wraps around my leg almost to my knees. Some would call my choice of wear slutty, I personally like to call it avant garde.

"Classy." Rosalie snarks as I stumble in, not used to the shoes I stole from my sexually deviant room mate.

"Uh, Bella we're only going to the old bar." Alice says, looking a little shocked at my choice of clothing.

"So? I haven't dressed up in forever."

"Old truckers will have you for supper." Emmett grins at me from his position on Alice's bed, his arms behind his head.

I shrug and reach for my black liner. "I bet I taste better than what they normally eat."

Ye Olde Bar is the closest hangout joint to the cottage, and where we end up going for cheap drinks every year. Unfortunately, during Christmas time it's also filled with beer-bellied truckers and 60 year old men that haven't come out of their trailers for half a year.

"Who's driving?" asks Jasper, walking in wearing a faded shirt and hole-filled, second-hand jeans that almost fall off his hips. He kisses the top of Alice's head as she fiddles with bright green earrings that match her dress perfectly. "Because I'm planning on getting trashed and therefore call rain-check."

Alice giggles, "Isn't always the case, baby?"

"I'm not drinking," Rosalie shrugs, straightening out her shirt. "I can take my car."

"So that leaves Edward as the other lift." Emmett says, as usual automatically opting himself out of any after party responsibility. "Where is my loser brother by the way?"

"He left with Tanya earlier," Alice answers, picking up her blusher, "they needed to sort out some personal stuff."

Emmett shakes his head and snorts like he's enjoying a silent joke. "Man, that boy sure knows how to eff up in remarkably interesting ways."

I pause. "What stuff?" I say nonchalantly, "Big stuff or small stuff?"

Or hopefully "stuff" that was going to break them up?

Alice's hands still for a second, she and Emmett and exchange a quick look in the mirror, before she continues to apply blush, "I'm not sure, Bella."

Uh… Wait a filthy, damning second! Why am I the only one that wasn't "in" on Tanya and Edward's dirty laundry?

I'm just about to start my "woe is me" rant, with Emmett as the prime target (because he's always the first to give in), when Edward walks in with his car keys dangling from his fingers. Tanya trails behind him, looking windswept yet perfect, holding securely onto his free hand. She's wearing a white dress, with matching new _Karen Millen cow skin boots with a purple frill._

Ah.

So I guess everything was fine and paid for, then.

I wonder if all their makeup conversations involved trips to the mall?

Edward falls on the bed next to Emmett, and a giggling Tanya falls next to him burying herself in his neck.

Gross.

"So are we all ready?" Edward asks, shrugging away from Tanya and taking a quick glance around the room. He does a double take when his sees me.

I know he doesn't approve of my Black Ballerina outfit because a thin line of disapproval forms at his mouth. I smile widely and do a not- so- subtle pirouette just to show off my fabulous clothes some more. I know he's just dying to comment, but instead he looks away.

What _is_ his deal today?

Jerk.

"Almost done," Alice says dabbing lip gloss on her bottom lip, "Wow. Nice boots, Tanya. Early Birthday present?"

"Kind of." Tanya grins like a cat that's got her cream and out of nowhere pecks Edward full-out on his mouth.

I wince. _Jesus._ Give me some warning before you do that, _bitch._

Edward answers in a small sullen smile, and his eyes shift toward me.

I turn away.

Asshole. Asshole. Asshole.

"All done." Alice quips excitedly, grabbing her purse and turning away from the mirror.

Edward unfolds himself from Tanya and the bed, "I'll take Tanya and Jasper. We'll meet the rest of you there."

The not-so-subtle brush-off stings right through my heart.

"I much prefer Rosalie's car anyway." I say in pointed tone, as he walks out hoping that my invisible waves of anger will hit his back and crush him into pulp-like substance.

That's how much I hate him right now.

****

Somehow between getting to the Ye Olde Bar and walking to the actual bar, I end up losing Alice, Emmett and Rosalie.

I'm quite pissed because Emmett had promised the first round of drinks. This turns out to be not too much of a problem because twenty minutes in, I've already accepted 3 tequila shots, a bloody Mary, and a beer from a group of foreign men who are clearly very far away from the place that they call home.

I'm talking to a beautiful man with intense dark eyes and skin the colour of blended cocoa. He reminds of a better looking version of Seal (Seal the singer, not Seal the mammal) but with dreadlocks.

"So where are you from?" I have to yell, because of the bustle and noise caused by loud, smelly men around us.

"We are from Jamaica." he says in stilted English. "My friends and I been travelling the USA some weeks now."

"Oh." I giggle, even though what he said isn't funny. "Where you going next?" I say in a voice that comes out more slurry than I'm used to.

"Toward LA."

"Hey, that's where I live!" I say enthusiastically.

Beautiful Man laughs at me.

"What a coincidence, huh?"

He inhales his joint even though smoking is banned from this place and my heart rate does something funny.

"You want a drug?"

"Huh? What drug?"

"No a _drug."_

"Noah drug?"

"_No a drug…. _as you say" he holds his joint toward me.

"Oh. A drag! Sure."

I mean it would be impolite to decline, right?

Maybe it's my current inability to think straight, or maybe the offering of marijuana, but I think I may be in love.

Hell, who needs Edward Cullen?

I'm going to elope with this interesting-smelling man with the most exotic accent to ever exist. We could travel the world together, smoke pot at all hours, and raise beautiful multiracial babies who we'd sing reggae to.

Suddenly my mind is_ buzzing_ with… possibility.

"So, Bella you would like to come sing with me?"

I blink. Is he asking me to elope? …_So soon?_

Then my ears pick up, and I glance at the stage where currently, five, obese, drunken men are tunelessly singing Christmas tunes. Trust us to pick karaoke night.

"I don't sing." I say abruptly.

"We'll be singing Bob Marley," he says in a charming manner.

"Fuck. I love Bob Marley."

We're clearly a match made in heaven.

He grins at me. Then my new friend grabs my arm and swings me around the dance floor and up the stage. The karaoke music changes from George Michael's "Last Christmas" to Bobs Marley's "Three Little Birds". At first, I'm slightly worried about the ability of my "outfit" to cover my important bits from the leering crowd below, but someone offers me another tequila and, five minutes in, I don't give a shit anymore.

It's great, really.

I sing, I dance, I grind and I giggle like never before.

Somewhere between giggling at my new friend, telling him to stop trying to kiss me, and asking him to remember to give me his number before he leaves, I notice Edward.

His arms are crossed, and he looks much too sober from his spot in the crowd below me.

I don't know how it's even possible with so many people and so much colour and noise. But even from so far across the floor, our eyes just connect and hold.

In that moment, I forget everything.

I forget the noise, I forget the music, I forget to dance, I forget the beautiful man that I'm with.

I even forget that I'm kind of mad at Edward.

Without even realising it, I'm lured in. I stop, unlatch my new friend from my neck, and stumble off the stage toward Edward.

"Move!" I search through the crowd, shoving and kicking people.

He's nowhere to be seen.

Did I imagine him?

I think I did.

Wow. Ridiculous.

I'm having Edward related hallucinations whilst dancing with a man who could quite possibly be the father of my future children.

I turn back but my future husband isn't anywhere to be seen.

Twenty minutes later, I resign myself to the fact that he's left without saying goodbye _and_ without leaving his phone number or his name.

So to cheer myself up because _everyone's just abandoned me_, I get back on the stage and sing Christmas karaoke with stale-smelling truckers.

"_Round yon __v__irgin Mother and Childddd! Holy Infant so tender and mildddd! " _I bleat tunelessly as I accidently slip off the stage and into a fan base of sticky old men.

Emmett wasn't wrong about men having me for supper, because they grab me, bulldoze me, and one even licks my shoulder.

Ew.

I don't get it. Am I meant to continue singing?

Unlike my beautiful abandoner, they have no hesitancy in giving me their numbers though.

By the end of it I have one number on my arm, one on my right breast and one on my left breast.

Wow. I think I need some fresh air.

I stumble through the back exit, and the cold hits my legs, making me squeal a little. The music disappears as the door shuts behind me and I feel calmer, safer, and definitely less molested.

Sifting through my purse, I find the special gift that my ex man-friend left me. I borrow a light, then lean against grey-slabbed wall, one leg bent at the knee so my heel is against it, and take a nice long drag.

Yes.

Exactly what I need.

"You're really going to screw yourself up with that crap."

I turn to my right to see Edward looking grim.

I raise an eyebrow. "Oh, it's the good doctor. Are we talking now? Because I don't remember making an appointment."

Edward walks closer. He's wearing a white shirt, unbuttoned at the top, hanging loosely over jeans. One is hand is shoved in the pockets, and it surprises me to see he's holding a cigarette in the other.

He was just piling on the surprises this Christmas.

"Really Bella, mixing marijuana and alcohol is just –"

"–Since when did you start smoking anyway?" I cut him off. "I've heard that stuff doesn't do wonders for the health."

"I don't."

"Clearly." I say pointedly looking at the cigarette.

"Just sometimes when I…. never mind."

It's amusing that he actually looks guilty.

Light and the rhythmic bass of music surround us as a giggling couple appear from the door that I came through. Angular patterns light up Edwards face as he assesses me and takes a puff from his cigarette. I, in turn, take one from mine.

"This shit is good."

The door closes and both the light and music disappear.

Edward blunts out his barely smoked cigarette and folds his arms still looking at me like I'm something to be studied.

I don't follow his example this time

His eyes travel to my breasts and I stick out my barely-clad chest for his viewing pleasure.

"Ever heard of clothes?" he asks wryly.

_And here we go._

"Ever heard of chilling the hell out, Edward? I know something that might help." I turn to face him and hold my joint in front of his face in a tempting manner.

"No, I'm good." He refuses stonily.

"Are you sure? It would help with your condition."

"Stop it."

"Be like that."

Edward glares at me, so I glare right back, take another drag and blow smoke into his face.

"Where's your _girlfriend_?" I say finally.

"Who, Tanya?"

"No, Mrs Cope."

Edward shifts uncomfortably. "She's with the others."

I try not to tense at his words. _With the others._ Like she belonged there. Like a missing puzzle piece that had neatly slotted itself into our lives.

She didn't belong with them.

I did.

They were my friends. My group.

It had always been Edward and I.

Who the hell was _she?_

"Jesus, what is this?" Edward wrinkles his nose at the scribbled numbers across my breasts, breaking me from my heated thoughts.

"Oh," I look down, "Well, this one is from hairy trucker guy from California. He likes pay per view porn and his burgers rare," I say holding out my arm and shuddering, before pointing to my right breast, "This one is from pimpled man travelling from Texas. He's got a degree in Anthropology, but now is on probation for shooting his neighbour's donkey. And this one," I say pointing to the curve of my left breast, "is from red haired dude from nowhere else but Forks, our home town! Pretty cool, huh?"

Edward doesn't mirror my enthusiasm about the coincidence of our former Forks neighbour who, by some twist of fate, ended up in the same bar us. Instead his eyes darken and then mumbles something under his breath which sounds like "typical."

Right. Typical.

"What's that meant to mean?"

Edward runs his hand through his hair in obvious frustration. "Nothing," he mumbles throwing me an annoyed look before moving around me, away from me, toward the door to the club, like he can't stand to be anywhere near me.

What the fuck?

I throw the joint to the ground in irritation (I really must be _irritated_ to do that) and put my foot down, swivelling to face him. "No Edward, don't walk away from me _damn it_."

This shit is getting so boring.

I refuse to let him continue to be all obscure and cryptic, yet again. There's only so much a girl can take, you know?

It's like unresolved issue after unresolved issue.

If our situation got anymore _unresolved_ we'd have to get a detective in.

"Look, forget it," he says, waving me off and turning his back to me like he normally does when things get too intense.

"And this just so _typical_ of you."

Edward freezes and turns back around, fire in his eyes.

I feel something strange building in the pit of stomach.

Restlessness, unease, irritation. _Desire._

"Fine," Edward says in a low voice that's filled with some emotion I can't name. "It's…All of _this_ is just so damned typical of _you_. You're always doing this."

_Okay._

"And what would _this_ be?!" I ask incredulously.

"Teasing guys, flaunting yourself, wearing clothes that are barely even clothes and it's all just... inappropriate."

"Inappropriate?" I raise my eyebrow at him. What the hell is his big, fat deal?

Edward exhales loudly, glances to his right and then back at me. His hair is sticking up in every humanly possible direction and the light from the nearby lamppost highlights his expression as he gets more and more frustrated.

I know I should be pissed at his bizarre reaction to the phone numbers on my boobs, but all I want to right now is kiss him.

_Really_ kiss him.

Hard.

"I don't get why you have to do all of that stuff," Edward goes on passionately, blissfully unaware that my panties have started to dampen, "Half those guys… _old men_… are probably hard after your antics. Why do you let them touch you like that? Why must you be so available? Why must you whore yourself—" Edward abruptly stops, looking instantly guilty, but it's too late.

My head snaps up.

Whoa.

_Whoa._

WHO-fucking-A!!!

"Whore myself? _How dare you."_

Suddenly, I'm shaking.

Did he just…?

I can't believe he just….

Wow. Just wow.

"Bella… " Edward says in a tone that's both sorry and cautious.

He put his hand to touch me and I stumble backward, away from him. I'm not having any of it.

"Who do you think you are calling me a whore? What right do you have…? God, you're such a fucking hypocrite!"

"Jeez, Bell—that's not what I meant…"

"What _did_ you mean Edward?" I cry trying to balance myself, but end up leaning against the wall for support because everything is spinning, "I'm single, okay? I don't have commitments. Why shouldn't I do what I do?! I don't hear any complaints when I'm making your stuff all happy!"

Suddenly I'm crying.

Hot, wet tears are slide down my cheeks against my will.

I can't believe… out of all people….

Edward.

Something strange pinpricks my chest.

No wonder he didn't _really_ want me.

_God. No wonder._

"You're crying," Edward looks panicked like he's never seen a crying person in his life before. " Look, don't cry. I've had a really bad day … please, just…_don't_." Like it's an inconvenience for him.

He puts his hand out to calm me, but I slap it away.

The few people around us quieten down their chatter and turn to stare.

"So, i-it's okay for you to have bad days?" I wail loudly, "I-its okay for you to fuck around and n-not me? It's okay for you to pretend I d-don't exist? It's okay for you to be a charming bastard one second and a t-total dickwad the next....."

"Bella, calm –"

"You don't even care that you're fucking with my head. Why does it even matter to you what I do!!!!" I take a deep breath, but it does nothing to stop the spinning.

Whoa. Out. Of. Control.

Edward tries to make a move toward me, I make a feral noise at him and he stops in his tracks.

He can't be here all the time, doing whatever the hell wants and making me feel like crap….Making me feel beautiful and glorious one minute and then calling me a whore the next.

It's wrong and confusing and it hurts. Like hell.

Edward looks stunned, like it's all too much for his pretty little head to take in. "It's your life."he mumbles "Do what the hell you want. I shouldn't care." He says it like he does care.

Of course he doesn't.

If he did he would be with me and not Tanya.

Yeah b-butt out," I sniff, "and stop a-acting like a self righteous prick …who has to always be right, and never says sorry, and just walks around like he owns the fucking world, and steals my chocolates– and-- and--"

Edward opens his mouth in exasperation as I search my mind for other things that peeve me off about him. Right now I can't think of any, but make a mental note to give compose a list when I'm more sober.

"I don't always have to be right." He says finally.

"Yes you do!"

"I do say sorry."

"No, Edward, because to say sorry you would have to acknowledge a situation exists. You're much too involved in your little _existence_ and doing whatever it is that you do, to ever acknowledge stuff that's right in front of your face!"

Edward stiffens. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Exactly!" I cry through my tears.

I can't stand it one minute longer.

I'm the one that's turning around, stumbling away from him in shoes that are about to make my feet fall off.

"Bella, don't walk away from me." Edward says jogging after me as I open the door to the club; he places his cold hand on my bare shoulder.

"Leave me alone." I hiss, shrugging out of his grasp.

"We need to… we should talk." Edward says, his body against my back and his lips breathlessly urgent against my hair.

I shake my head, as renewed tears fall down my cheeks. "No! We don't. You w-wouldn't get it." I fling myself into a crowd of people and run, or more like semi-stumble, away.

"Bella!" I ignore him yelling my name, as I dart past bodies that are a blur of colour and shape.

I hate Edward.

I really hate him with a passion that's deep, unfathomable, painful, indescribable.

He doesn't get it.

He would_ never_ get it. These "issues" were going to remain complicated, unresolved and ridiculous forever.

Everytime he's near me, around me... it shouldn't be allowed to_ pain _this bad.

And shit, it's true. _He's right_

I willingly lay myself out on platter, I let it all hang out…. I'd open my legs in a second where Edward was concerned.

I knew it, he knew it and God, he thought I was a whore because of it.

He didn't_ want_ me because of it.

He would never get it.

***

I know._ I know._ We didn't get to find out what the Tanya issue was, but I'll get there soon. Promise!

On a side note: anyone here fluent in French? I need a couple of lines translated for future chapters. If so, please get in touch!

Ciao for now!


	6. Chapter 5

So I got a bit carried away and this one is extra long. If you manage to get through it without dozing off would love to read your insights/ opinions. ...Also a big thanks to everyone who volunteered for translating some French (im surprised theres so many of you guys). I'll get back to you soon!

**Christmas With the Cullens**

**Chapter 5**

Amidst tumbling over my own feet, shoving people out of the way, trying to see through the blurry haze of tears, and checking behind me to see if Edward has managed to catch up with me yet, I bang face first into a rock hard body.

"Oh my god, Emmett!" I scream in my usual reaction, but this time cling to the collar of his shirt, because if I don't I'll just collapse with drunkenness and pure emotion.

"Easy on, little one," Emmett says throwing one arm around my waist to steady my body and holding me still as though I weigh nothing. His smile wavers when he notices me hyper-ventilating whilst throwing crazy and paranoid glances over my shoulder.

"You – is someone chasing you?" he asks, looking over my head.

"Just your dumbass little brother," I moan, thanking the Lord I've lost Edward somewhere in the crowd.

I can't deal with his "please speak to me", "why do you always ruin the day" and "calm down , you're making a scene" diatribes right now.

"Want me to kick his ass?"

"No, but I could do with a drink." I say honestly.

I just want to forget. And I don't want Emmett to kick his ass. I want to keep the ass kicking for myself, because hell knows he deserves it.

Emmett's face breaks into large smile and his eyes twinkle as he looks down at me, "Now _that _can be arranged."

****

Thirty minutes later…

No, wait, maybe it's more like an hour…

Or perhaps no time has passed at all…

Anyway.

_Some time_ later Rosalie spots me as I sit in a booth with my head bowed on a sticky table, holding tightly onto my stomach because it's started doing some really out-of-control stuff. Hundreds of empty beer bottles surround me as a large bearded man named Bert sings rap directly into my ear.

"Ok, so _now_ will you come home with me?" he begs as he finishes an extremely poor rendition of Ice Cubes "Check Yo' Self".

"Only after you sing for her too!" I cry, sitting up and point fervently at Rosalie, then instantly lay my head back down because everything becomes swirly and meshed together.

Whoa.

Bert's eyes pop out of his head as he notices Rosalie approach our table, and unconsciously starts to rap the same song.

Bert clearly does not have a very large music repertoire.

"_You betta check yo self for you wreck yo self__,__  
Cause I'm bad for your health_"

I place my forehead on the table and kind of giggle. It's even funnier than the third time he rapped it.

"_I come real stealth  
Droppin bombs on ya moms, fuck car alarms  
Do without one mother nigga wit yo Alpine"_

God. I think Bert is my hero.

Rosalie comes to stand still in front of me, ignoring Bert like he's a non-entity.

"Where's Emmett?"

"_And I wouldn't touch ya, punk motherfucker  
Here to let you know boy, oh boy,"_ Bert goes on.

"He went to take a piss," I tell her, still highly fascinated by my rapping friend. I think I see drool. Nice.

"He told me to stay put, but then I walked off, and then I'm not sure where he went." I laugh with mirth as Bert starts to jig around next to me, getting much too excited at Rosalie's voice.

Rosalie screws up her nose at me, "Christ you're_ wrecked_, Bella."

"_So come on and chick-ity-check yo self before you wreck yo self__.__"_

"_So come on and chick-ity-check yo self before you wreck yo self__.__"_

"Shurrip!" I hiccough, "You're just jealous because you're large and pregnant."

"Hi, there!" Bert says waving his hand in front of Rosalie's face, finally considering that rap probably doesn't hold same charm for her as it does for me.

As it happens, I have much better taste.

In turn, Rosalie blinks repetitively like she has something in her eye. "People have been looking all over you."

"Pshhh…" I say and close my eyes trying not to think of who she means by "people".

"Shit, where you girls from?" Bert strokes my hair, "I ain't seen fine ass like this in a long time. You gotta tell me where you from!" he says insistently.

"From parents who aren't related." Rosalie answers all hard-faced.

I start to giggle all over again.

I lied because, hell,_ that's_ the funniest thing I've ever heard.

"Get off her. " Rosalie says in a stony voice glaring at Bert's hand in my hair.

"She ain't complaining." Bert says touchily.

"Go. _Now_."

And its fucking hilarious because Bert, who is at least five times meaner-looking and larger than Rosalie, seems like he's about to crap himself with fear as he jerks up and walks off mumbling something about "Bitches nowadays..."

"R-Roosalieeee…." I choke, "that was just hil-ar-ious." I wipe away tears of awe and adoration from my eyes. "Why did you never tell me that you're this funny?"

Hell, I think Rosalie is my fucking hero.

Rosalie sighs and looks at me pitifully. "I can't deal with this. Let me go get someone. _Stay_." She says warningly like I'm her pooch and then like magic, her golden Rapunzel hair is swallowed by the crowd.

Not that I'm planning on going anywhere.

I'm much too comfortable here.

Resting my head on this sticky table.

Looking at empty beer bottles.

Just resting …

…… And staring at beer bottles. Which are empty.

I must have dozed off (beer bottles aren't as interesting as I thought), because the next thing I know, someone is grabbing my upper arms and mildly shaking me.

"Bella?"

It's Edward of course. Who else would voluntarily choose to remain anal and sober on a night you're meant to get drunk and let loose?

My instant reaction is to smile at him, but then I remember our argument and scowl instead. You get less wrinkles that way, anyway.

I pull out of his grasp but stumble forward. In an instant reaction, Edward grabs my hips and pulls me against his body. "Careful."

Jesus.

I try to pretend that his hands on my hips haven't sent an electric shock through my body.

"Don't touch me." I struggle out of his grasp.

"You can barely walk." He says pointedly.

"I can walk." I argue adamantly. I throw him a victorious look as I walk in a barely straight line and then knock into some petrified looking guy, grab his shirt and almost pull him to the floor with me.

"Christ," Edward groans, grabbing me around the waist, pulling me up and mouthing an apology to the innocent passerby.

"How much did you actually drink?"

"I'm sober!" I snap slapping his hand away from me. "If it looks like I'm drunk it's because I'm drunk on life."

Edward sighs. "Okay. I won't touch you," he puts his hands up in surrender "but you've got to hold me, okay?"

"Hm, okay." Normally I'm really good at catching him off guard by wiggling and squirming around and under things to get out of his grasp, but today I'm feeling a little bit queasy, so I give in.

Without letting him touch me, I stagger around him, put my both my arms around his waist, and my head in between his shoulder blades.

Somehow it seems safer than having him hold me.

"You got me?" Edward says, his profile turned toward me, amusement in his voice.

"I got you." I mumble against his back and then he put his own hands over mine and starts to move.

His movements are slow and careful as he swerves me through the crowd and I stumble along with him, trying not to trip over his feet. At first it's a bit awkward, but then we get into this rhythm, and because it's Edward and I trust him completely, I close my eyes and let him just guide me blind.

I stay like that for a while, then the cold hits my arms and I open my eyes.

We're in the parking lot.

"We're going home?"

"Yep."

"So soon?"

"It's closing time."

I screw my face at him, even though I'm still behind him and he can't see me. "It's one fifteen and this place closes at three!"

Edward chuckles as he undoes my hands from around him. "You're terribly astute for someone who can barely walk."

"Thanks."

Then I notice that we're standing in front of the Vanquish.

"We're getting in _here?"_ I say like he's just told me to jump into the sewer canals.

"This _is_ what we normally do to get home."

"I prefer the Volvo."

"So do I," he admits, shuffling around in the back pocket of his jeans and pulling out a set of keys, "but it's still parked outside my apartment in LA. So for now, if you don't mind...." I hear a click as the car unlocks, and Edward motions toward the door.

Of course I mind, but because it's not really in my nature to kick up a fuss (really, it isn't), I press my lips together in a grim smile and uneasily slip into the seat.

The car smells of new leather and mint, and my stomach spasms.

Don't get me wrong, the Vanquish is like the mother of all amazing cars, and it suited Edward to the T.

Beautiful, fast, elegant… unattainable.

But Edward and I alone in the Vanquish brought back memories that did funny stuff to my stomach, my legs, and other parts of me that are barely covered up and completely aching for him.

Our last encounter in this car had been interesting to the say the least.

For some reason, the memory makes me snort out loud and Edward glances at me as he slams his own door closed and starts an engine.

"Something funny?"

I shrug and place my legs casually on the dash. Funny isn't really the correct word.

Edwards looks at my legs and his jaw twitches like it does when he's starting to get frustrated with something. He reverses the car out of the lot and floors the pedal.

"Do you mind?" He says once we're on the road and driving at speeds that are banned in America.

"Do I mind what?

"Your feet." He nods toward them.

"They hurrrt." I moan, not moving them.

"Are you surprised? Those heels are at least eight inches long."

"Eight inches…" I say, licking my lip trying to intentionally rouse him, "is a good size."

Edward raises his eyebrow me in a way that makes it obvious he's caught the double meaning. But he's a kill-joy so he doesn't play along, instead he says "Feet," in a dour tone.

Ignoring him, I lean forward and untie the ribbons around my legs without moving them from the dashboard. "Fuck. I have leg welts. I didn't even tie them that tight! How the hell did I get welts on my legs?! You know Edward, you're lucky you weren't born a girl because shoes --"

"Shit. Get your feet off the fucking dash, Bella." Edward says through clenched teeth.

My mouth drops. "You _swore_."

"You fucking earned it as well."

In instant reaction, my panties become all gooey.

Edward_ cursing_.

Just shit.

How does he _do_ that?

"That turns me on you know." I admit, suddenly brave through my drunkenness.

Edwards eyes don't move from the road. "I know."

"Tease." I pout.

"I learn from the best." He says looking at me pointedly.

I smile proudly.

Edward scratches the nape of his neck, where the ends of hair have started to curl due to length and then brings his hand down and taps my leg with two fingers.

I stamp my feet on the floor of the car.

"Fine!" I cry much more loudly then I had planned, "Though that's the least you could do after calling me a whore!"

Edward shakes his head like everything about me is much too silly and inconvenient for him.

"The least I can do is let you scratch up my car? And let's get one thing straight I _did not_ call you a whore."

My eyes widen angrily as I realise how mad I still am at him.

"Lies. All lies!" I declare. "You did too call me whore."

How dare he try and distract me from my anger by getting me to hold him around the waist and taking me home in his stupid, mint-smelling Vanquish?

And then on top of that trying to deceive me with his lying bullshit.

Big, fat, lying, deceiver.

"No, I didn't." Edward says firmly.

"Yes. You. did."

"I never said you _are_ a whore. I said you _whored _yourself."

I pause in thought. It's not easy with my head all jumbled up like this.

"Well, that's past and present - like, I _suck_ Edwards cock versus I _sucked_ Edwards cock. Same deal." I tell him in a scholarly tone.

Edward clenches his jaw uncomfortably. "Why do you bring that up in every conversation? And actually it's noun versus verb, which modifies the meaning."

"I bring it up because it _happened_."

"Don't you think I know that?! I don't have Amnesia." His voice rises as he loses patience.

"Yet you act like you do… and it didn't," I sob, feeling my traitorous eyes well up.

"What?"

"Yes."

"Bella?"

"Shut up."

"Christ. Why must you argue for the sake of arguing?"

"I'm not!!_ I'm _trying to make a point here!" I say, all heated and bothered.

"What might that be?!" Edward says roughly.

"I don't_ know_ right now!!" I scream.

"Fuck." Edward bangs the steering wheel with force.

"God!" I cry in frustration, "Let me out."

"Stop," Edward says.

"Seriously, let me out," I cry in a panic.

"Bella, calm—"

"-- Let me out _now_, or else I'm going to throw up all over your fucking car!"

That's enough to make him instantly halt his precious vehicle on the hard shoulder off the highway. I hurriedly undo my belt, fling open the car door, and immediately throw up.

Somewhere between noticing Esme's pea's, trying to hold in my sobbing because everything is so disgusting and gross, and thinking I just want to go home but I don't really know _where_ home is - I realise Edwards fingers are in my hair.

I don't know at what point he walked over from his side of the car, but he soothingly murmurs in my ear, and holds my hair back from my face as I continue to go about my business in a revolting and obvious way.

When I'm done, Edward crouches beside me and passes me a paper towel.

"I can't believe I puked in front of you." I breathlessly wipe my face, appalled that he had to see _that_.

"You consistently puke in front of me every year." Edward points out, fumbling in his glove department and pulling out a bottle of water, unscrewing it and passing it to me.

I take the bottle gladly. The water is refreshing and cold against the back of my throat. I never knew I was so thirsty.

I screw the top back on and lie back against the seat with my eyes closed.

At least everything has stopped spinning like I was sitting on a merry go round. That ride gives me the creeps.

Edwards buckles my belt and brushes his lips in a feather-light kiss against my forehead before closing the door and walking around to his side.

I open my eyes.

The place where his lips touched me burns hotly against my forehead.

He restarts the engine and looks at me. "Bella?...Okay?"

"Yeah." I nod dryly.

Throwing his hand behind my seat, he reverses a little before pulling out.

As we continue our (much calmer) journey, Edward continues to throw me regular glances. I manage a small smile, suddenly embarrassed at ….everything.

I kinda over-react a little bit, when I'm drunk.

"My mouth tastes like sick and I have stomach acid." I announce after we've driven in silence for a few minutes.

Hands gently brushing against my knee, Edward kneels over me and fiddles about somewhere in the car's hidden crevices.

He pulls out mint gum and holds it in front of me.

It's the fricking car version of the Mary Poppins's bag.

"Here. It'll make you feel better."

"Thanks."

I chew Edward's gum in silence.

"I'm sorry," he says suddenly.

"What?"

"You said I never apologise, so I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry about the argument we just had, you were drunk and I should have been more patient. I'm sorry about the stuff I called…said to you earlier. It was out of line. "

He's being genuine and honest with me. I really should try and control the wave of triumph that goes through my body but I really can't.

Edward notices my face break into this large, unabashed grin and he rolls his eyes. "Yes, go on. Lap it up whilst I'm in the mood, you won't hear it again." He swaps hands on the steering wheel, " It's just..earlier …those men annoyed the hell out me with their touching and shit. They were all over you. It made me so ... I _wanted to_…God, I don't know."

His revelation catches me off guard and something warm spreads in my stomach, "You can't protect me from everyone and everything, Edward."

"I know, but it doesn't mean I don't want to break their fingers. I _know,"_ he says looking at me, "it's kind of stupid."

I shrug.

It's not stupid.

It's kinda wonderful. But I don't tell him that.

"So you admit that you called me a whore?" I ask cheekily.

"No, Bella," Edward says his face all serious again, "I _didn't_…I could never … you're just…" he sighs like he's lost for words, and glances at me sideways, the intensity in his eyes making my legs go all jelly like, "You're more wench material."

"Wha-"

My mouth drops as Edward chuckles to himself like he's highly amusing.

Despite myself I break out into a giggle.

"Shut up." I pout, in between bursts of laughter, "You're such a moron."

"Yet you still love me." Edward teases flicking my arm.

I smile and look down at my fingers.

I did.

I really, really did.

More then he would ever know.

****

"So en pointe, like this." I explain to Edward. He lies on my bed, propped up on his elbows with long legs resting in front of him, as he regards me with amused interest.

I raise myself up on tip toes with my hands meeting in an oval shape above me. My arms aren't even fully stretched, and already I'm stumbling forward.

"I think you may still have a little too much alcohol in your system to be doing complex ballet moves," Edwards muses observantly

"I can do this," I say stubbornly, "I just haven't practiced in a really long time."

I try to balance myself on my tips of my toes again, and huff in annoyance as I tumble and fall forward once more.

Fucking alcohol.

It should be banned from the world.

"Here," Edward says slipping off the bed and stretching his arm so his hand is flat and high above me. "Touch my palm."

"Huh?"

"Don't look up, but know it's there."

I concentrate on his hand above my head, I slowly lift myself up, trying not to think too much about the pain in my feet, and then I'm on my tip toes, and higher. My fingertips gently brush his palm.

"Hey, that's pretty cool." I smile happily, coming back down.

"When we were younger, Emmett and I used to do this to help Alice practice."

"I remember," I grin, "and when she wasn't looking you used to move your hands up higher. She could never reach and it used to make her cry."

Edward scoffs and shakes his head in reminiscence when his cell goes off. He reaches into his jeans and pulls out his phone.

"Hello? Tanya. Hi."

I tense.

Right.

_Her._

Edward's, bothersome, annoying, Barbie stalker.

Couldn't she just let us have a moment's peace?

I refrain from being nosy, allowing Edward to have his privacy as he starts to walk around my room, stepping over clothes and swiping at his hair as he talks.

Then I give up and outright stare.

Goddamn, the man is sex on legs.

How can a simple thing like him being on the phone cause so much _chaos_ in the pit of my gut?

"Yeah, I just got home ten minutes ago…" Edward catches my eye and winks at me.

Holy hell.

I pretend to look busy by staring at my toes.

He comes to halt at my dresser, his neck props to the side as he trails his finger over dusty books, and CD's that I haven't touched in years.

I sigh.

Lord Almighty, Carlisle and Esme must have had the most perfect chromosome pairing ever, because he's _beautiful._

Edward stops abruptly, his body stiffening, expression darkening. "Yes, I am with Bella…. _I told you_ I was with Bella. What? You want me to come pick you up?... Come with Rosalie. No, Tanya, I can't. _No_…. Listen, we'll talk when you come home, okay? _Christ_." Edward slams his phone shut and rubs his temple.

"She being a bitch again?" I smile widely and jump on the bed and land on my knees.

"She can be a little….er, high maintenance." Edward says sourly.

Then I had to ask it.

I mean I couldn't _not_ ask it.

Plus I had alcohol in my system, making it a now or never moment. _So carpe-fucking-diem._

"Do you love her?" I spit out.

"No," he says without missing a beat.

Suddenly the heavy feeling I've been carrying around in my chest feels a thousand times lighter.

_He didn't love her._

"Then why are you with her?" I probe some more because I've started and like Pringles, once I start I can't stop.

Edward leans against my dresser as he regards me.

"How many people have you dated that you're actually in love with?"

I'm not sure how to answer that one, so I ask, "Do you always buy her shoes to keep her sweet?"

"No. Not just shoes."

"Wow."

"I know."

I lie down, my stomach against the bed. "So does it shut her up?"

"For a while."

I pause.

"Jesus, Edward you're such an ass."

"I am." He admits.

He looks at me like he expects me to ask some more, but I'm too damned happy to think of anymore gruelling questions. I mean I hate to cash in on someone else's misery, but turn me upside down and spank me, because that revelation by Edward just made my day. In fact, I think it may have made my year.

_He didn't love her._

Yay.

I'm so happy that I'm about to get up on my bed and start jumping up and down (something I dearly miss and haven't done in a really long time), when Edward's suddenly walking across the room to my desk.

It's covered in pictures of rainbows and houses that I drew when I was five. The largest one is a picture in crayon colours, where I've written "my family" in a red crayon. Underneath is a scribbled attempt at the Cottage and seven stick figures - all the Cullens, me, and Charlie.

Edward picks up something next to the picture.

A baseball.

Oh shit.

"This is mine." He says in shock.

I sit up.

"No."

"Hell yes, it is. Its got Simmon's autograph on it."

Ut, oh. Busted.

"How long have you had this?" he asks incredulously.

"Since I was sixteen." I admit, "I stole it right before you were going out to play baseball with Emmett."

"Do you know how frantic I was looking for this thing? It meant the world to me."

"I know," I say guiltily.

"So you just kept it?"

"You were annoying the hell out of me."

For a moment I think he's going to get mad, but he just laughs and shakes his head disbelievingly.

"You're taking this very lightly."

I had thought that there would have been a definite shedding of blood and tears if Edward ever found out.

"I've done stupid things too," He tosses the ball with one hand, before catching it and stuffing in the side pockets of his jeans. "Do you remember at sixteen when all your underwear went missing? Me." He says proudly.

I gasp.

"That was _you?"_

He nods grinning.

"Edward, that's so gross. I was so scared. I thought some strange pervert had stolen my panties out of my suitcase! …You couldn't have found something else to steal?"

"I wanted your panties." He says casually shrugging his shoulders.

"Is there something you're not telling us?" I ask wryly.

"Well," Edward ponders, "I did have biggest crush on you."

"_What?"_

Edward had a crush on _me_?

Well hello to a whole new world of unspoken and unexpected revelations.

"God, Bella I thought you were a damned Goddess."

I shake my head skeptically. "You were always so mean."

He was.

At one point I even thought he hated me.

"Don't you remember at fifteen.... back then I told you that I loved you?"

"Yeah," I nod my chest constricting in bittersweet memory, "but you were joking."

At least that's what he had said five minutes after his confession.

Talk about saving a girl and then throwing her back in to drown.

Edward looks at me and shrugs, not committing to anything. My eyes stay on his and an invisible current fizzes and pops between us.

Did he really used to….?

Wait.

_Does he……?_

Edward turns.

"You must be exhausted. I'll get your night clothes."

I gulp.

Jeez, I really needed to _lay off_ the alcohol from now on.

"The shirt on the door." I mumble weakly.

Edward moves toward me with my blue shirt in hand.

I stare dumbly as the shirt falls on the bed next to me.

"You want some help?" Edward asks when I continue to sit in my statue like state.

"Some help?" I swallow.

Yes, I needed fucking help, because if this tension didn't kill me I was going to go insane.

He motions toward my corset top, which has most likely cut off the circulation of my torso. Because I'm not sure what else I'm meant to do, I nod and turn. He falls on the bed and gets to work behind me.

I don't know if it's because of what he just said or because he's started undressing me, but the change in the atmosphere is apparent.

Edward doesn't speak as he works silently on numerous button and laces.

I try to breathe.

"Done." Edward says against my hair and I watch my top flatten out and fall in front of me, exposing my nudity. "Here." He hands me the shirt, so I don't have to turn around to wear it.

I take it from his hands, but don't put it on.

I can feel his breath against my bare back, and he shifts a little.

My next move is purposeful, and probably wrong in more than enough ways. But at the moment, thinking and caring, what ifs and what nots don't matter.

Maybe I'm an idiot.

Maybe I just enjoy playing with danger.

But this is what I need, because, God, I'm just so fed up of testing the waters. It's goddamn Christmas and I deserved to dive right in.

So, I grab his hand and press it against my right breast. Just like that.

My nipples are so hard that they actually throb, when his cold palm brushes my tight skin.

Edward lets out a whistle through his teeth and I move back and settle in his chest bravely.

"I need you." I murmur softly, throwing my head back and eyes meeting his. Golden flecks move around his iris, as his pupils dilate and all I want is his for him to kiss me.

Right now.

He doesn't kiss me though. His hands don't touch me more, but he doesn't move them away either.

I wait, then quickly get impatient and shuffle against him.

"God, Bella." Edward grunts like he's caught on the brink of some devastating inner turmoil.

I place my hand over his larger one and squeeze it encouragingly.

"Bella, please. Just.... Don't," he says it like he's in physical pain. His hand slides out from under mine.

Oh?

I turn around to face him.

Edwards eyes flick to my naked, aroused tits, and he looks away, toward my dresser.

Rejection hits me like a tonne of bricks.

"Right." I say looking at my purple, star and moon covered bedspread.

Wow. This is embarrassing beyond belief (my situation, not the bedspead).

I feel like a real idiot.

Edward coughs, "Um, we should… this is…"

"Why don't you want me?" I whisper, covering my chest with my arm.

Stupid question, but I can't help it.

It's obvious. He has Tanya. Huge-boobed, perfect-faced, I'll-put-out-if-you-take-me-to-the-mall, Tanya. I bet even her lady-bits smell of roses.

So what if he doesn't love her? It sure as hell doesn't mean he loves_ me_.

"That's really not true." Edward says, nodding downward. For a second I'm confused as to whether he's answering to the thoughts in my head or the question that came from my lips.

But then I'm distracted as I look at where he's motioning. I stare at the area between his thighs, where currently a large and prominent bulge resides. Wow.

I bite my lip.

I'm not sure what this…_ that…_ means.

He wants me, yet he doesn't _want_ me?

Or maybe he _needs_ me and doesn't_ want_ me?

Or maybe he _wants_—I stop. I'm confusing myself.

Edward strokes my cheek answering my question like I asked him out loud. His voice is hoarse, "I think…I need you all the time, Bella. Sometimes, it's….it's so damned painful to be around you."

I'm not sure if he's talking about just physical pain, or emotional too.

Because that's what its like for me. I need him both physically and emotionally in this crazy, urgent, indescribable way. Like oxygen for breathing, like water for thirst. I need him in the most obvious ways, in subtle, unspoken, unexpressed ways, ways in which I probably don't even know about myself.

And not having him is _killing _me.

I don't get it.

If he needs me, then why is he always resisting?

How can he be just satisfied with what we have?

It wasn't enough.

It's never enough.

It's like offering someone with a craving or an addiction a small taste. It's like offering a sliver of chocolate to a chocoholic, or a single drag to a chain smoker. Never enough.

And even though it's probably less dangerous for me, I can't walk away either. Believe me, I've tried more times then I care to admit. But then the season of fake joy and cheap mistletoe comes round, and it all goes to rot.

Edward's still stroking my cheek. I drop a gentle kiss against palm. His hand falls away from my mouth and gently settles against my collar bone.

His fingers twitch.

_Touch me._

I want to scream it in wild abandon, but it won't be very appropriate right now. So I just stare at his hands willing him to touch me.

_Please… just…_

He doesn't.

My head ducks, and fingers rest on his upper thigh, next to the bulge of the stolen baseball in his pocket, itching to wrap my fingers around his real-life bulge.

Edward lets out something that's half way between a sigh and a groan. "God, Bella, what are you doing?"

I bite my lip, "Hoping it will end."

"What?" Edwards says slowly, his hair falling awkwardly over his forehead and his lips set in a grim line as he looks down at my fingers like he's in some sort of trance.

The only two noises I can hear is the ticking of my bedside alarm clock and our shallow, rhythmic breathing.

This _torture._

My fingers slide upward. Closer.

He hands grab mine before I reach my destination. "Stop."

I stop.

I guess he didn't want me _enough_ then?

Our eyes connect and I'm not sure how longer I can hold onto his gaze without crying. Or begging.

"Fine." I say coldly shaking out of his grasp, unable to stop the raw tremble in my voice that gives me away.

I hear ya, Edward, loud and clear.

"It's complicated," Edward says grittily.

"Of course it's fucking complicated!"

It's always complicated.

But I know what this means.

It's over.

The crazy thing is, I'm not even sure _what's_ over.

It's not like we had anything that ever meant anything.

But it still hurts.

It hurts like someone's clamped something hard around my heart.

I turn my head away from him, fingers searching the bed hastily for my blue shirt.

Suddenly, I think I'm going to choke.

I take a deep breath and then another.

God. I'm so stupid.

Horrible, cheap, embarrassed… _just stupid… _And where the fuck is my shirt?!

"Bella, look at me." Edwards voice is unsteady.

I really don't want to look up because I'd rather be doing more useful things, like digging holes and burying myself inside them.

But Edward flicks my chin and I do.

Then he catches me completely off-guard by slamming his mouth against mine.

----------------


	7. Chapter 6

Okay so this is smutty and rude and well… and not for under seventeen year olds. So please, if you are, close your eyes or click back button ;)

**Christmas With the Cullens**

**Chapter Sixf**

I'm caught off guard for half a second.

Then there's grabbing, gnashing, biting, tugging, squeezing, clawing… and some other fun stuff that adds to, rather than relieves the wild, insistent throbbing sensation between my legs.

There's no softness or carefulness or gentleness between us.

Coarse hands, breathy moans, and rough kisses berate my senses like raw confessions of tears and love.

Edward unapologetically assaults my hips, my neck, and my face with his forceful mouth.

At first, I'm a little perturbed at how one person can be just _every-fucking-where _at the same time, but then I close my eyes and let the feeling knock the hell out of my senses.

Yes.

This.

Amazing.

_More._

It's like he's a starved man who's suddenly found his favourite, most delicious feast, and, come hell or high water, famine or flood, rainbow or leprechaun, he's going to enjoy every damned second of it.

I don't care that he's pressing me so hard into my purple star and moon covered duvet that I'm finding it hard to breathe. I don't care that his fingers dig so roughly into the flesh of my breast that I'm sure to have bruises. I don't care that he's treating me like maine lobster with a dollop of cranberry sauce.

I'm loving it.

Every painful, torturous second of this bullshit that we do every Christmas - I want it. Faster, harder. Rougher. _Sexier._

Fuck. I want it. _Now._

….And I'm not even being demanding yet.

There are still questions of course.

There are always questions.

But right now, I can't feel anything but him. Edward.

Soft lips, prickly stubble, harsh breaths.

_Edward._

"Ask me… to… stop," he groans, leaving a trail of heated, wet kisses from my mouth to my neck as he alternates between squeezing my left breast roughly and moulding it in circular motions against his palms (others would be surprised if I told them he was the one resisting five minutes ago).

I writhe against the stellar bed-sheets as he stops at my neck and takes a small piece of skin between his teeth and sucks it into his mouth, not softly.

"Never… stop!" I wail much more passionately then I intend, tightening my legs harder around his waist.

What the ---

Caught off guard by the baseball he stole from me earlier, I shove my fingers into his pocket. Edward shuffles hips upward to allow me to grab the offending object and throw it to the floor with force.

It makes a light thud against the carpet, but the noise isn't nearly as loud as the rush of blood in my ears.

So, here I am again.

Kissing Edward, allowing him to molest my senses. Letting him touch me, tease me, torture me.

It's not like it doesn't cross my mind….I mean, for tiny millisecond I _do_ actually think that this is wrong, and bad, and…I pretty much seduced him which is again, kind of wrong.

But then it passes and hell, I don't care.

Girlfriend or not, this is Edward and it's my fucking_ job_ to seduce him. Hell, I'd forgo salary and a company car for this shit. Maybe even annual leave.

But Christmas leave I'd always take. Because no matter how excruciating Christmas with the Cullens is … it also means _this_.

No matter how much I anguish over this week for the other 359 days of the year; no matter how much I want to dunk Edward's head into the lake outside every time we meet; no matter how much I want to bury myself with the moles after our encounters…this… god… _this_ is worth it.

"Unhhh…" I moan softly, as Edward rubs his erection impatiently against my thigh through his jeans, and then bites my neck harder.

Christ.

Definite bruise alert.

I wriggle and then still as he starts to suck the tissue of my neck like I'm his favourite pacifier.

I wonder if it'll be purple this time. Or blue with a yellow middle. Sometimes, if I look hard enough, I can see a third color too.

I hope it's flower-shaped though. Then I can trace it, make a tattoo and wear it on my left breast, over my heart.

"Bella…" Edward murmurs, "Bella…," he whispers my name like a prayer, escaping softly from the harsh breath of his lips.

_Edward._

Closing my eyes I furrow my hand in his hair and press his head closer to me, revelling in the stinging sensation, hoping that he'll somehow become a part of me, before realising I don't actually own a turtle-neck.

Reluctantly, I shove at his chest.

His mouth disconnects from my flesh as we sit up together. Our breathing irregular, hair dishevelled, clothes… well _his clothes _(I'm not wearing enough for it to count)are wrinkled and creased.

A razor-sharp prickle runs down my spine as our disoriented gazes meet. Eyes circling, watching for reaction like hunter and prey, excited, weary, careful… ready to pounce at a moment's notice.

I love when he looks like this -- eyes dark and cheeks flushed, yet there's something so _demanding _about his appearance. His mouth is slightly agape as he regards me all horny and lust-filled

And my body just _aches_ to have him.

My eyes zero in on his bottom lip which is bruised, blood red and so fucking beautiful that I'm unconsciously moving forward. Edwards thumbs rest on my hips as I lick it, and then I take his bottom lip into my mouth.

"God… baby," he sighs against my mouth, letting me work as I suck, bite, and tug, his thumbs circling my hips above my skirt tolerantly.

My hands fall and reach for the button of his jeans, wanting more. Wanting him.

Faster than the strike of cobra throws me back against the bed.

What?

Surprised, I struggle upward but he pins my arms above my head.

"Edward, uh…what are you doing? Let me… _oh…_"

I'm hypnotized as his thick red tongue slips out of his mouth.

My breath hitches. Oh God.

He teasingly circles my rock hard nipple.

Oh God_…oh God…!!_

I'm arching and reaching and crying and breathing… and _more._

There's sweat on my brow, pricking up my spine and the ache between my legs is _unbelievable._

Edward looks up; encouraged by the noises escaping my mouth he slowly lowers his head, hungry eyes not leaving mine.

Another sharp flick of the tongue.

"Unhhhh…." I moan louder.

Then I thrash about like I'm having convulsions because his mouth is doing amazing, tingly, otherwordly things to my body.

"Shh, quiet," Edward mumbles from somewhere in between my tits, "...you gotta be quieter, Carlisle and Esme are just down the hall."

I nod even though he's much too busy to notice as his mouth moves from my nipples to my belly, and down my left leg.

I lean up on my elbows and watch him almost unconsciously.

He kisses the back of my knee and then he's moving up again, taking my thigh in tiny, careful butterfly kisses. Closer to the place where I need him most.

Ummmm….

Is it possible to die from this?

Because I'm pretty sure that my heart's going to over-excitedly pound out of my chest and land on the bed in front of him. I _know_ it.

Taking a deep breath, I exhale carefully, trying to calm my heartbeat.

…. That's it. Just like that… keep breathing. Breathe…. breathe.

I watch as he pauses at a spot he's taken a liking to and suckles at my skin.

Surely, Edward would know about this stuff. I mean I don't really want to die from this. I have stuff to do. Assignments to hand in, parties to attend, my professors would—

"Oh _MY_—"

I gasp as his warm mouth caresses my inner thigh right next my panties.

Close.

So fucking close.

He licks across my bikini line, lapping at wetness that's leaked out of my underwear. His tongue is soft and warm and wonderful… and everything in between.

_Breathe.__Breathe.__Breathe._

Then his mouth is on my panties, probing, hurried. Demanding.

Fuck.

I'm not looking forward to Charlie having to read my obituary because there's no question, I'm _definitely_ going to die from this.

Not caring about whoever's slumbering across the hall, loud unchained noises escape my lips.

I pull at Edward's hair, alternating between pulling him closer because I want more and pushing him away because it's not enough and this is killing me.

_Not enough._

Just when I'm getting so impatient that I'm about to resort to begging, Edward's fingers slide under my panties and he pulls them down my legs, flicking them off me in a single graceful movement.

Golden eyes burning with intensity look up at me from beneath the gauzy frill of my ballerina skirt and my heart flutters.

His eyes travel to that very aching part of me and I watch him cautiously, suddenly shy at how overtly wet I am. I wish we had thought to dim the lights or something.

"Let me see you, Bella." Edward gently pushes at my inner thigh wanting me to spread myself more for him.

I snap my legs closed promptly.

He looks up from beneath dark lashes, eyes clouded with confusion.

"I think I'm done." I say trying to cover the sudden panic and shyness that's overtaken me.

"What?"

I clear my throat.

"Listen, Edward, I'm going to be honest and not lie. I came to the cottage with high hopes of this… _stuff _not happening. I wasn't ready. In fact I've realised I'm not ready. I'm not ready at all…"

I have no idea what I'm talking about but I go on anyway.

"In fact I'm not ready because I don't want this to happen –"

Edward's gold flecked eyes crinkle and his face wears an entertained smile. "Bella, I think you're more than ready."

I brighten considerably.

"No. no. I mean, I haven't prepared myself. I haven't you know…. I haven't thought about you touching me this Christmas. I haven't even touched it -"

I trail off as Edward starts to actually laugh.

"Hey! I'm being--," I blush. I'm a total moron. "I'm done." I pout. "Really I'm—"

"Sshh, Bella." Edward moves over my body and brings his mouth over mine, muffling my noises of protest.

Even though I should have a little more self control, I instantly take him up on his unspoken offer, kissing him back with fervency. This is much to good to let pass. "I'm… seriously…. done." I say in between breaths.

"Okay…" Edward says, nipping my lower lip and then my upper lip, "You… want me…," he nips the corner of my mouth "to stop…?"

"Um……" I open my mouth to let tongue in, "in… in a… second."

"Okay." He shifts away from me.

I grab him and push my mouth back onto his forcefully. "I said, in a_ second."_

"Yes, madam," I can feel his smile against my mouth. " Should I…dim the… lights?"

"Yes," I nod my head as he drops three swift pecks on my lips, "Please." Then I wrap my leg around him tightly.

I sigh into his mouth. His kisses are the best things I've ever tasted.

Honey and sweet cotton candy….

… better than mint-choco-eclairs.

And that's _really_ saying something.

"Then you gotta let me get up…" Edward mumbles a few second later.

Oh.

Even though I don't want to, I loosen my death grip, watching bashfully as he slips off the bed, adjusts himself and slams his hand on the switch.

We're instantly plunged into darkness, but soon enough violet, purple and pink streaks surround us as he switches on a dinosaur lamp- a present from Charlie when I was six.

"This okay?"

I nod dumbly.

He jumps back on the mattress and faces me on his knees. His face is angled by vibrant violet shadow, and my breath hitches when he leans too close.

"So where were we?"

I gulp.

"Um, we were, um…" _In a situation where I didn't need to form a comprehensible sentence._

Edward chuckles at my mumbling state and kisses the palm of my hand, then pulls my thighs down the bed so my legs flank him.

He kisses my stomach enthusiastically and I'm his slave.

He moves down past my annoying gauze skirt, and his eyes look up at me all serious and gorgeous from below.

"You're beautiful, you know."

"Huh?"

"If it helps…yours is the most beautiful I've seen."

Uh…

"Thanks, Casanova."

Edward shakes his head in laughter and kisses my thigh, "'Welcome."

Mmmm.

Wait.

Even though he's seen me before he's never said _this_. And now that he's said it...I'm not sure if I'm meant to take it as a compliment.

Not really a time to be brainstorming for my paper on deconstruction of the male gaze, but, I mean, is he comparing me to stuff he's seen in magazines, or real life?

Because if he's comparing me to porn-stars then that's kinda cool because you know, it's their job to have good looking vaginas. But if he's comparing me to normal girls than it makes me kinda mad. It's gross and I don't want … I gasp.

I instantly forget all thoughts of his porn-star girlfriends because his fingers are _on me_.

Sweet Jesus.

Softly, his gentle fingers tease me apart, and I can't even remember why I was thinking about anything else but this.

"Okay, Bella?" Edward ventures all cautiously, like he would give it up if I say I'm not.

Not that I'm not.

I'm okay.

I'm more than okay.

I don't think its possible to be okay-er than I am right now.

I nod much too enthusiastically for someone who was having Braxton Hicks type doubts a second ago.

Then all of a sudden his fingers are inside me doing things I've missed and longed for for much too long.

It's the best feeling in the world yet the worst torture I've ever experienced.

He's teasing me.

I know because he knows my sweet spots like the back of his hand and if he wants he can send my body into orgasmic frenzy in under two minutes.

Edward plunges in deeper and I moan.

It's strange, because we know each other so intimately in some ways, yet in others we're completely unknown.

All my shyness gone, I shamelessly open my legs further, and then his fingers are pounding into me.

Fingers, knuckles, warmth and wetness, heat, burning between my legs. The friction is incredible.

Blood rushes in my ears, whimpers, cries, thrusts, shrieks for more.

Watching his fingers work me, I greedily force my hips to meet him. Faster, harder, hotter with each movement.

Edward leans back.

What?

Is he moving away?

No! _No! no!_

But then he's closer. Crouching over me, his body curling and his forehead dropping to my belly. Elbows angle over me, his hair tickling my stomach and then he's got it.

My spot.

A gentle hit. Once, twice.

I moan and shiver.

I'm close. I can feel it building, clenching in my stomach. Something shifting. Tightening. Twisting.

"Come, Bella." Edward coaxes, his aroused breath staining the skin of my belly. "Come, for me."

"Unhh, Edward!" I moan writhing on the pillow, my head thrown back so I'm not watching his glistening fingers disappearing in and out me of me anymore, his persuasive words caressing my body in erotic touch.

I bite my lip, letting sensations steal me away as he drives his fingers in and out of me in a way that I really wish another part of his body would.

He hits me again. Three times. Four.

Oh shit. I arch.

"Edwa—I-I'm--" My legs start to tremble. Fuck.

_Five._

"Oh god. Oh god. Oh fuck," I close my eyes tight.

"That's it, baby. Give it up. Do it." Edward demands.

Then I do. Right into his palm.

Edward slides up the bed, his shirt prickly against my sensitive nipples as the world falls from beneath me. His fingers gently move out of me, his palm circling my centre in small motions, spreading warm liquid around it.

I look up at him, my face burning, lips tingling and puffy.

Edwards eyes are coal black. "God, you always look so _fucking_ _amazing_ after you come." He says in a coarse tone, like I'm some sort of chocolate Goddess that he wants to consume.

He drops a kiss on the corner of my swollen lip and I smile.

A warm, fuzzy feeling envelops me - a thick cotton blanket of joy. I'm sated and I made him curse and he said _that_ even though I know have an extreme case of swollen face and panda eyes right now. But then I notice Edward shift on top me, and move sideways looking like he's in complete pain.

My eyes travel to his jeans where I can see his erection proud and angry in his pants.

Oh.

I sit up and move toward him.

Edward holds my hand and shakes his head. "Not now."

Not now?

I look at him, unsure if he's doing this because of Tanya or something else.

We've come this far, it doesn't seem fair that I can't give him what he needs.

"Edward I'm --"

"I'll take care of it," he says like it's some kind of technicality.

I bite my lip. "Okay." My fingers drop from his jeans, even though all I really want to do is show him how much I love him.

I fall back into his arms, puzzled.

Edward strokes my hair. "It's okay, Bella. Really."

I nod.

We don't say anything more.

Instead, we lie quietly. Edward holding me with a small space between us. His arm is around my waist and thumb lightly circling my hip like a tender sign of possession. His gentle breath in my hair, makes my insides feel like they'll melt into a puddle of nothing.

Our situation is a little awkward; there's a lot that's left unsaid, and it's still not quite enough.

Yet as I start to doze off, Edward moves my hair away and drops a small kiss at the top of my spine…and I can't help but think that, somehow, this is perfect.

TBC.

Okay guys, I love that you are all here, and I love your reviews … but you know what I love even more than that?... Long reviews. Yes, I'm shameless and hungry as Edward ;) But it's not my fault, my muse asks to be fed ;)


	8. Chapter 7

Hey all. Sorry for the major delay. Life got interesting, but its all calmed and boring now. Major revelations, some smut, and a lot of angst…

**Christmas With the Cullens**

**Chapter 7**

_**December 21st**_

The worst thing about the morning after?

It leaves me even more horny (yes it _is_ possible).

Horny.

Horny.

Horny.

Horny as in, if I get Edward alone in a corner, God help me, because illicit situations and forth-coming lawsuits are likely to be an issue.

It's not like I wasn't sated.

Last night, I felt content and life was good. But then some time during the night I woke up, Edward wasn't lying next to me anymore, and every fibre of my being needed him in this weird and painful way.

Did he go back to her? Was he holding her?

Did he make love to her, like I wish he would with me?

Suddenly, I'm puzzled and seething at the same time.

Why can't Edward just _take _me like a normal guy?

Most guys I know wouldn't hesitate in getting their love truncheons out if any girl was offering what I was. It's like the prize packet with a double chocolate cake thrown in. Not a bad deal if you ask me.

Am I really that repulsive?

What do I have to _do_ to make him say yes?

And you know what's even worse about_ this_ morning after?

Tanya.

Bitch.

Bitch.

Bitch.

Okay, well, I guess I _did_ get it on with her boyfriend behind her back.

But even though she has her suspicions, it's not like she's_ sure _about it. As far as she knows, Edward and I could have been playing cards all night. So really, there's no reason to be so fucking _uncivil_.

I don't want to hear remarks about "grey is so last season" when I walk into the kitchen wearing my old, wiry grey jersey dress over knee-length leggings.

When I ask how Edward wants his eggs for breakfast, I don't want to be cut short by talks of poodles named Pooch. It's really disrespectful.

I don't want her to sit in my seat.

I don't want her to talk over me.

I don't want her touch Edward.

Hell, I don't want her to _look _at Edward.

I especially don't want her to spill juice on my sweater and fucking GRIN about it.

"Whoops," Tanya shrugs non-apologetically as I stare at my orange juice soaked bosom."

"You did that on purpose."

She did. I saw it.

"Think of it as a favour." She smiles innocently. "You're up for an over-due and much required shower anyway"

I'm just about to lunge and pull out her perfectly straightened blonde hair to give her a perfectly bald scalp, when Alice proves she's inherited Esme's ever diplomatic temperament by sliding between us and asking Tanya on an excursion to buy Christmas tree decorations. At first she's all snooty and reluctant but then Emmett mentions the store being in the largest mall in Seattle, and she's sold like a cheap ho.

So Alice, Emmett, Carlisle, and Esme and save the day by driving the Barbie-bot into the sunset. I hope they buy a Christmas rocket and launch her out there too.

Meanwhile, Jasper and Rosalie stare meaningfully at the scrabble board as I play footsie with Edward's lap. He sits with his elbow on the table, his face in his palm, trying not to scare anyone by showing a real-life facial expression.

He's been contemplative and zoned out all day. I would try and analyze what he's thinking, but trying to solve Edward's moods is like trying to solve a Rubik's cube. There's no point unless you have no fucking life. And anyway, I guess I should be cheering that he's not turned into jerk-king again.

"Fitting," Edward muses as I add an R to "STONE" to making "STONER".

"Hey, don't insult that which you do not know intimately. Being buzzed is an art form. It's like reaching this whole different plane of being. Probe any musician or artist in the world and they'll tell you stoners rock."

"Buzz and love," Jasper adds appreciatively.

"Magic for the emancipated," I say sliding my foot up Edward's thigh, ignoring the warning look he shoots me.

"Hypothetical questions."

"Philosophical answers."

"Wretchedness of poets," Jasper ponders.

"Everlasting boners," I say pointedly to Edward, not missing how the corner of his mouth twitches. Almost there. Hooray.

"Sugar caned aphrodisiac."

"The world is your oyster."

"Her cat is your bitch."

"We. Get. The. Point," Rosalie snaps, making BANG on the scrabble board.

I giggle, Jasper snorts and we high five.

Oh, the joys of abnormality are unparallelled.

Edward adds E and D to end of Rosalie's word, then snaps his legs closed over my foot as I get dangerously close to the part him that he's being so secretive and ascetic about.

"Banged," I say, amused at his new word.

"As in hit, thumped, smacked." Edward explains like I'm someone of little mental capacity.

"I know a better definition."

Edward shrugs, "Me too…"

He looks at me and smiles for the first time today.

I momentarily forget to breath.

"Oh, so it _is _in your dictionary." I tease, encouraged, and try to probe his knees apart with my foot.

When the others aren't looking, Edward mouths, "Quit it", grabs my foot and effortlessly eases it off him.

Annoyed, I turn to Jasper.

"In fact, Jasper, I have a hypothetical question right now, which you might be able to answer for me, um, philosophically."

"Sure." Jasper shrugs, not looking away from his scrabble pieces.

"So there's this hypothetical girl. She is willing to offer this herself to this hypothetical guy. But there's one problem: his hypothetical bimbo-faced girlfriend. Now this girl knows that this guy desires her too. In fact these two have been in a lot of interesting, um, hypothetical situations. But the boy is all moody and reluctant. So what is this girl do?"

Edward blinks at me disbelievingly.

Jasper slowly looks up from the board and then blatantly at Edward, before scratching the nape of his neck thoughtfully.

"This one isn't needing any type of philosophical answer, Swan. It's easy. Hypothetical girl needs to eliminate the competition and turn up her game a notch. If this _hypothetical_ guy has a dick, he'll have no problem complying."

I grin.

"I guess having a fascination with green isn't the only thing we have in common."

Jasper shrugs and makes a salute-like hand motion between his head and mine as of to say "Great minds".

So all I needed to do was re-seduce Edward and bitch-slap Tanya?

_Great minds, indeed._

I smile purposefully at Edward, who in turn gives me a half-assed attempt at exasperation. The thing is I can almost_ feel_ him giving into me.

After last night, I must be close, right?

This time he's caught off guard, as I move my bare foot up his leg.

The contact is harsher than I intend.

"_Unfff_!" Edward jerks up, his chair falling to the floor with a loud clang.

Oh.

I guess I_ banged_ it?

He stares at me stunned and beautifully bewildered. I look at the scrabble board nonchalantly.

Rosalie head snaps between Edward and I, realization dawning her features. "Ew, guys. Just… _ew."_

"I gotta use the bathroom," Edward says rubbing his brow and quickly striding off.

"I gotta go_ hypothetically _rewrite my memory or something," Rosalie says and leaves the table.

Jasper gazes at the scrabble board, where he's formed the word GANGA from Edward's G.

Then, without saying another word, we revive the game by making as many synonyms of marijuana as we can.

****

Later that evening, I walk into Carlisle's study with a bounce in my step, desire in my loins, and only one purpose in my mind.

Edward sits at the large mahogany desk, wearing rimless glasses, as he leans over some paperwork, his brow furrowed like it always is when he concentrates. His striped, abercrombie t- shirt is unbuttoned at the top, and one collar angled away from his cheek.

I sigh.

Perfection.

He glances up when he hears the door click closed.

"Hey," He sits up straighter looking slightly surprised. Surprised at what, I'm not sure. You think he would have figured out that "horny Bella" and "stalker Bella" come hand in hand, by now.

I lean against the panelled door, the coldness seeping through my thin shirt and between my shoulder-blades. "Busy?"

"I'm just filling out enrolment forms for Dartmouth … " he trails off, hypnotized, as I cut the much too long distance short by overtaking the cream carpet in four long strides.

Edward swerves Carlisle's leather seat around to face me, and I straddle his lap.

As horny as "studious" Edward makes me, there's no room for him right now so I grasp his glasses from his face and throw them on the desk behind us.

I lunge for his lips.

Edward holds my waist and instantly responds - like he's been waiting for this all along.

"Er, hello?" he smiles into my mouth.

"Hi," I mumble, "I missed… you." Then I let my tongue sneak in between his lips.

Edward grunts as our tongues duel for dominance and I grind against the part of him that's also greeting me. Someone _definitely_ missed me.

He mumbles unrecognizable words against my teeth, and I pull at his hair, hips rocking roughly.

Heated breaths, silenced moans, heartbeats which I'm unsure are his or mine.

In my haze of passion-filled glory, I lean back and I'm falling.

Edward jerks upward, his arms grabbing for me, and my back hits Carlisle's desk.

The coarse stubble of his chin is against my forehead, one hand clamped on the cluttered table behind me, offering my weighted body some support as he presses his lips against me once again.

His free hand is cold and firm against the skin of my stomach as it slides under my shirt and upward. In a fight for control, I shove at his chest and we both hit the wall to the left of the desk with a soft thud.

I claw at his arms and drop warm kisses on his neck, his chest- through his t- shirt, on his stomach, and then lower – on the small slither of bare skin between his shirt and his pants.

"Okay, we've got to stop." He says suddenly, grabbing at my wrist to pull me back up.

"Why?" I mumble uncooperatively shaking out of his grasp.

"You know why."

"Forget her," I sigh and shove up his shirt for a better view. I kiss the taut skin underneath his navel and follow the light feathering of hair that leads to button of his jeans. Black boxers peak out just above the seam, and I stop and gently lick this soft skin there.

Edward makes a gravelly noise at the back of his throat "Bella… this isn't right….it's… " He gives up his try at a sentence when I unbutton him, and pull both his jeans and boxers down together a couple of inches. He pops out in front of my face, all hard and beautiful.

My breath hitches and I look up. Edward eyes meet mine, wearily.

"You don't want this." Yet his voice is so gritty and filled with desire I think I might just come listening to it.

"Yes I do." I answer assuredly, kissing the skin just above his hard-on.

Edward winces like something ice-cold has touched him and twines his fist in my hair to keep me still. "It's so complicated already."

I shrug.

It is.

It always would be.

It doesn't mean I can't show him that I love him.

He licks his lips, and looks around the study like he's burdened with the weight of the whole world. "We need to talk…about _us_."

…Uh

Is he being serious?

This definitely confirms that nagging doubts in my mind: there's clearly something wired-up wrong with the boy.

Shit, here I am, on my _knees_, in front of him, and he wants to _talk_?

If I didn't know that he was going to enjoy this phenomenal amount, I would be humiliated.

"Just let it happen, Edward. These complications will sort themselves out."

He makes a small movement and I'm not sure of he's shaking or nodding his head. He briefly closes his eyes, so I take the opportunity to move forward and lick the clear liquid that's gathered at his tip.

He curses and then twists his hand more tightly in my hair, as I stroke and kiss up and down his length. "God…" he groans. I'm not sure if he's trying to keep me away or shove me closer as I let my lips and tongue explore him tenderly.

I look up at him, and swirl my tongue around him, slowly.

Edward throws his head back, his Adams apple bobbing in his throat. "God…. _God."_

"Edward?"

He pauses and looks down at me through lowered lids.

"Stop calling me God, my _name _is Bella."

Then I take him fully into my mouth.

He makes this hiss between his teeth that I love so much and at first just watches me with hungry eyes. But then he gives in and starts to move his hips to the rhythm that I've started but that's still restrained and cautious.

This is most definitely my favourite part of our foreplay.

I love watching the expression on his face.

I love the way his eyes on mine, wordlessly coax me on.

I love seeing him losing the battle between control and desire.

I love when he finally surrenders to me.

It's amazing that_ I_ can do this to _him._

Then things shift, I'm not leading him anymore, he leads me, his hands even more tightly fisted in my hair as he drives me closer to him in hurried, frenzied tempo.

I can never take all of him, but I relax that back of my throat so that I can have more.

I put my hands on his hips, trying to regain control as he gains momentum.

A soft grunt echoes through his body and I feel the change.

"Bella..."

His hand disengages from my knotted hair, dragging at the collar of my shirt to pull me away.

I hold tightly onto hips refusing to budge.

I want this.

Two more strokes, his stomach tenses, then gives in and warm salty liquid hits the back of my throat.

I swallow the heady, familiar taste greedily, until he has no more left to give.

Harsh breaths and shallow movements subside and Edward pulls me up with one hand, using the other one to shift his boxers and jeans back into position.

He cups my chin tenderly and kisses my mouth, probably tasting himself on me. "Thank you."

I smile, pleased. "Welcome."

Edward sighs loudly with some secret thought that's crossed his mind, and hauls me into his chest.

I crash into him and snuggle my head into the crook of his neck. I fit perfectly there, like this part of him was made just for me.

I can feel the chaotic pace of his heartbeat starting to calm against me and his smell and his taste are all over me.

It's the best feeling in the world.

"Edward?"

"Hm?"

"How long before you can make it go hard again?"

There's silence and I wonder if he's dividing or subtracting minutes in his head.

"Touch it." He says finally.

"Huh?"

"Go on."

I move my hand from around his waist to front of his jeans and in instant, palpable, reaction his dick twitches against my hand.

"Oh."

Edward laughter rumbles in my hair. "You're asking the wrong question. I don't control it, you do."

Somehow I don't think either Edward or I control it because it clearly has a magical life of its own. It could probably have it's own TV show or something. I don't tell him that though. Instead I bring up something that's been nagging me for much too long.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure…" Edward in an all encompassing suspicious tone.

"I've been thinking about this a lot. I um… I want us to you know, have sex."

I literally feel everything about him tense and freeze against me.

Edward's arms fall from around my waist and he takes a single step back.

A single step that is a thousand miles.

Bad move, Bella.

Maybe I should have done what I normally do and just demanded it, and he might have reacted normally.

"No." His voice is clear, sharp knife-edge to my gut.

No.

Just like that.

I cross my hands over my chest. His face is tight, unrelenting like carved marble.

"Why not?" I ask insistently, "I want this... And despite your weirdo moods, I know that you want this too. It makes sense to do this… it's the natural next step…" and will probably cause unpleasant Bella-shaped explosions if we don't.

Edward snorts and shakes his head, irritated, like I've just told him the moon is made of cheese.

"This makes _sense _to you?"

And let's welcome back the jerk-king. " And it is _not_ the next natural step."

"Yes it is! Unless you're into other types of deviant activity that you haven't told me about... wait… are you?"

Edward sighs, "Don't you think we should sort out the mess we've created first?"

What mess?

The Tanya mess?

_That_ could wait.

We had already come so far.

I didn't want to wait another year. Or even another moment.

"It'll clean itself up," I take a step toward him, trying to shorten the distance that's become so stretched between us.

Edward puts his hand up in front of me and it feels like he's shoved me hard in the chest. "Sex isn't going to straighten this out, Bella."

"What is it?" I ask wounded, "Do you just not want me?"

"Do you want it on paper? How many times do I have to tell you that, that's not the case?"

"So what? You're hoarding the dick for the girlfriend?"

Edward groans, and turns away from. His shoulders are tense and for a moment I think he's going to walk out. But then he turns back around.

"Okay," he says slowly, his palms faced toward me in surrender, like I've just escaped from the mental asylum holding a sharp razor. "I didn't want to bring this up before Christmas… I wasn't going to…"

"Spit it out, Edward," I demand, cutting him off.

Edward's eyes jerk toward me, fury in his gaze. But his words are slow and precise. "I'm_ not_ okay with fucking you every Christmas and then being done with it."

"Yet you're okay with letting me blow you every Christmas?!"

He throws me an exasperated look. "This is what I mean."

"What?"

"This. _This_ is the reason I don't want to go there with you. The reason I didn't want to today…Don't you see it? You didn't really want this. It's killing you. You bring up the stuff we do all the time. Can you imagine what would happen if we had sex?... I don't want you to feel this way about us."

"I _do_ want it. I'm fine with it." I say adamantly.

"No, Bella you're not. Hell, _I'm_ not."

I bite my lip. "You're not?"

Edward shakes his head.

I feel something squeeze in my chest.

So he didn't want this?

"I want more."

I pause.

"Then why are we arguing? I want you. I already told you."

I take a step toward him.

"I don't want that kind of more, Bella!" Edward says frustrated, "How can you want us to have sex whilst I'm with someone else? How can you… is that what you _really_ what you want?"

"If that's what it takes."

Edward grunts and troughs his hand through his hair once. Twice. "If I tell you that's not what it takes?"

I stare at him.

What the hell is he saying?

"You won't."

Otherwise he would have. A long time ago.

Edward strides toward me, closing the distance between us. For a second I think he's going to kiss me. Instead his eyes are a raging, black fire, polluting, burning mine.

"Listen to me carefully;" his voice is raw, "it's _not_ what it takes."

My mouth opens but nothing comes out.

I love him. That's certain.

He's telling me he doesn't have to be with Tanya (I think).

He's telling me he wants _more, _whatever more is.

I should fling myself at him happily, right?

I should be overjoyed.

Breathless with feeling.

Overwhelmed at the rightness of this whole situation.

Tra-la-ing to the sound of music.

Etcetra.

Instead all I feel is queasiness in my gut. Raw thumping of blood in my ears. Something overpowering tightening my chest.

Edward hands cups my cheek. "You've got to communicate with me."

I lick my lips.

I shrug myself out of his grasp and take a step back.

Edward's hands drop to his sides.

"Don't walk away," he says crossly, but doesn't move toward me either.

"What is there to communicate about Edward?" My voice is shaky.

"This. Our relationship, whatever it is. It can't go on like this. It's not fair to me, you, or Tanya."

"One of those could be eliminated from the equation. You already said you didn't like her. Why are you even with her?"

"_Love._ I said I didn't love her. And God, I don't know Bella. I don't know why I'm with her…._was_ with her…because she was available, and a hot and good fuck. And she was meant to be a distraction…apart from she's not. That's why!"

"A distraction from what?"

He raises his eyebrows at me.

My legs weaken,

Shit. Fuck…. _Holy cow_.

Wait….

What?

"So I guess what I'm trying to say here," Edward continues, all composedly, whilst I try to refrain from having the most violent stroke in medical history, "…is that I'm not talking about sex Bella. I'm talking about us."

"Us." I echo like an idiot.

"Yes." Edward says firmly.

"No." I say.

Edward actually _wants_ me? Like wants more than physical part of me?

What more did I have?

Apart from what I was offering him, not much.

Perhaps I shouldn't have gone there.

I shouldn't have seduced him....I shouldn't have asked for _more_ than we already had.

Then he wouldn't have to do _this._

This _is_ us.

"Uhuh," Edward says, his tongue against the roof of his mouth, "I knew that would be your answer." The stoic expression on his face doesn't change

"Of course. You know it all. Why even bother ask?"

"Maybe I'm a sucker for self punishment."

I touch my throat unsteadily.

"I don't know what type of chivalrous act this is, but you don't have to date me to be physical with me. What is this…pity… _guilt?_ Because really, I'm fine with it. I'm okay with the physical deal I won't bring up giving you… _any of it_ again, if that's what you want."

"This isn't chivalry. I'm being selfish. I'm telling you that I'm _not_ okay with it. That I don't want just sex from you. I'm asking you if you're willing to give me more than that. Is that clear enough for you?"

His hands are crossed over his chest and I can almost hear his teeth grind. He exudes frustration and raw masculinity and everything else that makes my heart pound even more deafeningly in my chest.

I turn and walk away until I'm in front of the mahogany desk. I touch the dark wood and trail my fingers over the brittle edge.

I think of Edward and I being more than what we are now.

I think about seeing him out of the cottage, dating him, meeting his friends, seeing his apartment. I think about waking next to him everyday.

I think about how_ much_ I want this.

I panic.

"Bella?" He's behind me.

I move away from him. Edward takes a step toward me blocking my path and I shove at his arm.

"What are you—"

"Why all of a sudden, then, Edward?"

""This is all of a sudden?!" Edward bites out like I'm being completely illogical.

"Yes, We've barely had contact out of the cottage. When we meet we do _this _and then you go and live your life and I live mine.. ..Now this…_ this_ is all wrong. You're with _her._ How can I be with you when you're with her?"

"Don't you think I feel shitty because of this situation? It wasn't meant to be like this!"

"Well, it_ is_ your fault!"

"It's not like you don't walk away every time I try with you." Edward moves toward me and stops directly in front, his face drops to my hair like he's trying to breathe me in through the crown of my head. "Everything is…_pointless_ with you."

"What?"

"What the hell do you want me to do, when you ignore me when I want you most?!"

_I_ ignored him? What a hypocrite.

"You ignore me!" I yell childishly.

"I only ignore you because there's no way forward! I ignore you because you never, _ever_ relent."

"Relent to what? You didn't try!"

"That's bull-shit! This is_ not_ all of a sudden and I _do _try! What about all those times I pestered you to come out? All those times I asked Alice to ask you to come see me? When have you ever given in? What about when we were fifteen, and sixteen and even the year after that? What about in LA, all those times Alice asked you to lunch…you_ never_ came."

Blood roars in my ears.

He's right.

I never did.

I ignored it.

I didn't think he meant it.

_He really wanted me there?_

"You weren't just being polite?" I squeak.

"That's ridiculous. Why would I be _polite_ for Christ-sake?" he says like being _polite _is the most rudimentary and pathetic thing, ever..

"You couldn't have called me personally? You couldn't have emailed? God…you couldn't have come to my dorm to say hi when you came see Alice?…you _could _have tried more, Edward! Fuck, you didn't even invite me to your _birthday_ ... and then you meet _her _there_."_

"I didn't invite you because I was irritated at you… your whole attitude, and it's not like you ever came to any of the others!" Edward squeezes the bridge of his nose, and then looks at me tiredly, "I tried…" he says softly, regretfully. "Maybe not as hard enough as I should have…but God, Bella, I have some pride too. It's not like you ever were in contact with me…"

Tears blur my vision.

I wasn't meant to cry.

I'm not_ going_ to cry, dammit!

He's right...This is a _mess_

"You- you didn't try harder because you don't really want me. You need girls like Tanya. Girls who fit in. Who match. Who balanced and right. They belong."

Edward blinks, looking like someone's just splashed cold water in his face.

I don't really belong here. With Edward… or the Cullens. I come to them at Christmas, something that's became a routine…. ritualistic since I was young… A habit, just like Edward and I.

They love me. I know that much.

But I'm not a part of them.

I don't _fit._

"Why do you keep saying that?" Edward growls, "Fuck. I want you. I do. I do. _I do_." He's grasping my arms, touching my face, his voice is thick and hot against my cheek, "I want you. I want you more than I've ever wanted _anything,_ Bella." His hands are in my hair, cupping my face, forcing my eyes to meet his. "I want you physically. I want you more than that. And hell, I've tried denying and ignoring it, praying and fucking it all away…. but it won't go. It just _won't_."

His voice is so honest and pained that something starts to dissipate in my chest, but I still shake my head ferociously, stubbornly through my tears.

It's dangerous to want something_ this_ much.

"I don't fit with you, Edward," I sob, "I'm not like Tanya, she's… she belongs. You chose her."

"Bella…" Edward whispers stroking my face. "Stop. Just… stop." He puts his head against my forehead: it's hot, like he has a fever. "I've tried before… _I'm trying again_… I just want you to be able to give it to me. I want it. I _need it_. Please?" His voice breaks and then he's silent.

Everything's silent.

Then I'm crying… _really_ crying and grasping and shoving and kissing.

I'm not sure why I'm crying so hard.

Maybe because he's begging, pleading, and it hurts my heart.

Maybe because we've let this go on for so long.

Maybe because I'm not sure if I can truly give him what he needs.

Maybe because more than anything in the world, I just want to give it to him.

Edward kisses my lips, his voice is helpless, apologetic. "I'm sorry. Really don't cry…. I'm… you don't have to… shhh."

Then he's kissing away my tears and stroking my cheek with his thumb and somehow, magically, my convulsions are lessening.

"Bella?" he murmurs against my mouth and I nod my head in reply.

I'm so close to saying it.

I'm close to whispering it out in frantic truths and breathless whispers that I'm stupid, and that _I_ should be sorry (at least for some of it), and maybe, even that I'm crazily, madly and completely in love with him.

But then Tanya ruins the moment by walking in and screaming.

Bitch.

***

_Whew._

_Still confused? More explainations soonish ;) I didn't want to overburden you or anything._

_Oh and thanks for feeding the muse, it was so interesting to read your theories and insights – I think I read them all at least five times. I laughed and was perplexed, and a little worried, but the obese muse is definitely loving ya'll!_


	9. Chapter 8

**Christmas With the Cullens**

**Chapter 8**

The noise.

It cuts and slices through the Edward-related fuzz that blurs and constricts my mind. I take a step back from his body and ferociously wipe my tears.

Edwards head snaps up, "Tanya...." he begins but then gives up because she's still at it.

So I guess this is what it sounds like when the world crashes and burns and the sirens of a thousand fire-trucks come together.

I sigh, "You know you have to really stop interrupting--"

Then I freeze because she strides toward me, still wailing and looking like the spawn of hell, and slaps Edward, hard, horizontally beneath his cheek, striking his jaw and mouth.

_Oh._

Head hung, eyes downcast, he doesn't move or object.

Then she does it again, harder. In the exact same place. Like she's had lessons on precision.

Edward flinches at the force, but his arms don't even move from his side.

I can already see the corner of his mouth filling with colour and rapidly swelling.

She lifts her hand again.

What the--

The bitch has gone insane.

I take a step forward, because someone has to, and because _really_ it's not worth getting such a beautiful face fucked for _this._

"Hey-" I'm grabbing at her waistcoat, but someone's got me by the collar, pulling me.

I stumble backward and Emmett clamps Tanya around the waist as she continues to pretty much foam at the mouth. It's not an attractive picture.

"Hey, easy, easy. It's okay… _It's okay."_

Tanya screeches and scratches like a wild, senile cat, but Emmett restrains her easily.

"No. It's not fucking okay! It's not okay he's here with_ that_ bitch when I'm in the kitchen wearing a fucking _Wal-Mart _apron baking cookie dough with his mother. It's not okay that I have been playing perfect girlfriend and get no fucking credit for this bull-shit! It's not okay that my Prada skirt got ruined in your over-loaded washing machine!" she lets out a lengthy sob, and glares at me like its my fault, "It's not okay to show so much interest in a tramp with less personal style than my poodle...and it's especially not okay that he says her name when he fucking comes!"

I roll my eyes; she's talking and talking and---- _what?_

Whoa, back up there, Barbie-bot.

Edward winces even more than he did when she struck him. "Tanya….please."

"Yes, Edward, once I can forgive, but _twice_ is pushing it. My name is Tanya. Got it? _TANYA!"_

Emmett can no longer contain his laughter, "Oh, man, this is fucking fantastic, " he lets out a small chuckle, looking like he wants to applaud at the ridiculousness of this situation, but he's still restraining her so he can't.

He's instantly sobered though, when Tanya screeches right into his ear.

Wait. Is this why she was so_ mad_ at Edward yesterday?

I glance at Edward.

Edward looks morosely at the wall behind me, looking like I do when I get caught red-handed, hashing it out on campus, and knowing there's no way out.

I know it's kinda inappropriate in this situation, but I think I might be blushing.

She's still talking though. Definitely a talker this one.

"What were you doing Edward? What was going on in here? Why were you holding her? Why were you so close? The answer better be a good one or else."

Huh? She wants one answer for all of that?

"We were just discussing the intricacies of Beethoven--,"

"Shut it, _slut."_

"Hey!" I say wounded, "that's no way to--"

Tanya makes a lunge for me and Emmett pulls her back to his chest.

"Calm, chill, _easy_--"

"Fat chance. You'll need a tranquiliser gun for this one." I mumble.

"Bitch!" she screams, scratching at Emmett's arms with her finely manicured nails.

Emmett nods his head toward the door. "Beat it, Swan."

He flinches when she nails his cheek, moves his face out of the way and secures her flailing hand with his larger one.

"I can take her." I say obstinately and Tanya growls.

Really. What a drama queen.

Emmett sighs. "Get her out, Edward…. "

For a second I wonder who he's referring to, and then I realise it's me.

Edward blink and then looks forlornly between Tanya and I, but doesn't move.

"Edward? Fuck man, Rose is gunna have my ass if I get scratched up in bitch-fight before her ma gets here."

I'm about to object some more when someone grabs the back of my shirt and hauls me out.

"Close the door behind you," Emmett says, probably because Tanya is still making strange, un-natural sounds that might alert Esme and Carlisle . I don't think they'd take too kindly to this type of behaviour.

Jasper seals them in by closing the heavy panelled door with his foot and drags me up the staircase and into Alice's bedroom.

I fall on the bed.

He crosses his hands over his faded black t-shirt and raises his eyebrows at me.

"Well, you're the worst advice giver, ever." I accuse wryly.

"Most people don't take my advice quite this literally."

"You said it wasn't philosophical!" I fall back on the bed and close my eyes wishing everything would disappear, "What a fucking mess."

This is no doubt the _messiest_ Christmas, ever.

Even messier than when Edward popped my cherry at sixteen. And boy was that messy.

Fuck, sometimes I forget why I keep coming back for more.

I guess Edward isn't the only one who's a sucker for self punishment, after all.

Next year, I'm most definitely going to spend Christmas drinking stale whiskey and watching re-runs of Home Alone, alone.

The door clicks closed.

I open one eye.

Alice.

She's wearing a blue cardigan, and brown plaid skirt with leggings, her eyes look frantic, worried. "What did you _do_?" She asks breathlessly like she's just ran a marathon. Or up the staircase.

I sit up. " I did stuff which caused Edward to confess to things he didn't want to. Stuff that almost got me to confess what I didn't want to. Stuff that got Tanya all psycho-bitched up….but that's not unusual for her." I get up from the bed and walk into my room.

Alice walks in after me and stands in the middle of the purple carpet. Jasper closes the door and slides down the door jamb, picking up Edwards autographed baseball on the floor and tossing it up in the air.

"What are you doing?" Alice asks brows furrowed as I pull out my rucksack from underneath my bed.

"Going back to LA."

"Are you serious?" she asks it like I'm joking.

"Yes." I say, crawling over to my drawers and pulling out the few entities of clothing that I unpacked a couple of days ago.

Alice shakes her head and moves toward me. "You can't just leave now. Not with this situation…with Christmas in four days!"

"Watch me."

Then they do.

In silence. Just watch me.

I throw some underwear in my rucksack and start to zip it up.

I don't think I like being watched like this. In silence.

"I thought you said you loved him." Alice says all of a sudden, quietly.

Something squeezes in my gut.

I look up at her.

"I do. _I do._ But he's confused… this is all _confusing._ He wants me… he told me he wants me, but that's because his girlfriend is the crazy she-bitch from hell and I must look damned good in comparison. In fact I know I do. But what if I'm not enough? What if he decides that like in the past, he can't be bothered to make the _effort _anymore? I need to go… I need to figure--,"

Alice cuts me off, "You're being ridiculous Bella."

I blink off guard for a second. It's not like Alice to be so blunt.

"If there's one thing I know about Edward is that he'll try, you can't blame him for not trying enough. Hell, why do you think_ I_ was on your case so much? You would blow a gasket because I would try and set you up, but you never thought there might be someone else besides me that wanted this?…that maybe I'm not really _this _persistent all on my own?"

"Wait, you knew how he felt?"

Alice bites her lip looking guilty.

I cannot believe this.

" God, Alice, I can't believe you never said anything?"

Alice looks at the floor her eyes glistening with tears, "I'm sorry for keeping it from you but he made me promise, he really twisted my arm... Edward can be…" she sighs a, "I felt crappy. I _feel_ crappy… but I need to tell you this. I need to tell you that I don't remember one time when I saw him, _ever,_ when he didn't ask about you. Or that he didn't look completely sad and despondent when you didn't come."

I pause.

Wow.

Thanks Alice. Best buddy, good friend.

Now I feel like a big pile of dog poop.

"He cares deeply, Bella….maybe even more. I can see it, Jasper see's it. Hell, everybody in the vicinity sees it. I don't see how you don't…"

I look at Jasper.

Jasper stops throwing the ball and shrugs.

"Ever heard him speak?"

I roll my eyes, "Of course—"

"No, _really_ heard him speak. He says your name about a fifty times more then necessary. It's the most stupid, annoying and hilarious shit I've ever heard," Jasper shakes his head and chuckles, "It's like an obsessive tick, he says it at beginning middle and end of every fucking sentence. Bella, hey Bella, how are you Bella, your tits look nice Bella. Bella. Bella. _Bella._ … Fuck, someone oughta tell the boy that I _know_ your fucking name, _he _knows your fucking name, shit, with way he's going e_veryone _knows your fucking name… and that saying it isn't going to sort your commitment issues."

I screw my eyes at him.

What the hell kind of stoner tirade is this?

"Jasper, I think you should just never speak to me from now on, because I'm failing to understand how that adds to anything we've been talking about, and I do not have any issues of commitment or otherwise_,"_I say tartly.

"Apart from Al, I've never seen you hang out with same people more than twice." Jasper says pointedly.

"What? Yes. I do. There's, um, there's Jessica."

"Who's Jessica?" Alice screws her nose.

"My dorm-mate."

"The chick who's always unconscious and undressed." Jasper clarifies.

"Oh yeah." Alice nods vigorously in remembrance.

I bite my lip.

Jasper tosses the base-ball back in the air, catches it and throws it on the carpet. It rolls toward me and stops by my knees.

I hate this.

I hate these heart- to- fucking- hearts.

They never refrain from making me feel like shit.

"This is great," I moan, "Now I feel like an evil, idiot-woman."

"No," Alice shakes her head, "you're not evil, Bella. Not at all."

"And just a bit of an idiot-woman," Jasper smirks.

"Shut it," I bring my knees up to my chin, "Ugh, What do I do now? I mean …I'm not sure where we stand, or where we're going… or if I can give him what he wants."

I want Edward. I really do.

More than anything I've ever known or wanted in my life.

But this relationship stuff?

There's too much expectation.

So much need for hope and belief…_stability._

And expectations were dangerous where Edward concerned.

What if I ruined it?

"Well, it's not like he doesn't have to work through this Tanya thing, but despite that, he told he you how he felt so it leaves the door open for you…" Alice bites her lip and then says cautiously, "It's not like anything is set in stone…. I mean, if you want, you could say how you feel too…"

I had been so close to telling him.

So close.

And now I'm chicken-shit all over again.

I should have done it during my moment of weakness.

I _should _just do it.

"I _should _tell him."

"Talk to him. Tell him how you really feel," Alice says smiling with so much joy that she could warm the snow-queens heart. "No strings attached. Just let it happen."

"And fast," Jasper says resignedly, "All this drama and longing shit is ruining my buzz and makes listening to his conversations unnecessarily lengthy."

I pick up the baseball in front of me.

I roll it between my fingers.

"I guess I can do that. I guess I can tell him how I feel…"

Alice claps her hands and kind of jumps, "You can!"

"I can."

"Yes, you can." Jasper nods encouragingly, reminding me why I voted Democrat.

Alice squeals.

I giggle.

Her enthusiasm is much too infectious for the good of man-kind.

So I just go out there and tell him how I really feel?

Tell him that I love him.

No strings attached.

No panicking.

Just let it be.

The rest, consequences, what-ifs, what-nots, can be dealt with later.

I_ can _do this.

People do this all the time.

I mean, it can't be that hard… right?


	10. Chapter 9

Hope ya'll had a great Valentines!. It even got an honourable mention in this chapter, if you can spot it;) I hope you were pampered to the max because y'know as the superior sex we deserve it. And if you're a guy you deserve it too… ;)

**Christmas With the Cullens**

**Chapter 9**

_**December 22**__**nd**_

I stand at the entrance to the living room the next morning, the heightened volume of the TV blaring in my ears and the baseball clenched in my right hand as I shift uneasily from foot to foot.

My un-dried hair cascades down my back, leaving my black strappy top damp and cold between my shoulder blades. The material ends just above my navel and highlights the dismal fact that the clothes I wore when I was sixteen no longer fit me. I'm not sure if I'm more distressed that this used to be my favourite top, or that I'll have to face one of my biggest pet peeves and go shopping for clothes. I mean if Adam and Eve hadn't gone and sinned we'd be all walking around naked, so what's the big deal? … I'd rather do more useful things with life. Like sleeping or eating chicken.

The smell of waffles and eggs waft from the kitchen, where I heard Carlisle and Rosalie discussing the minutiae of elder-flowers and pregnancy as I walked past earlier. I didn't stop because I was so eager to get everything out in the open, and well, I don't have much interest in elder-flower or pregnancy.

Though now that I'm here, I'm rooted to the floor like some invisible force has clamped my feet to the cream carpet, preventing me from moving forward.

Don't worry, I haven't chickened out or anything.

I'm being a little cautious that's all. And yes, even I can be cautious.

I'm ready now though.

I think.

Inhaling a long breath, I take one single step inside.

Esme is standing in front of the Christmas tree, looking stylish and radiant in her black designer dress. She murmurs directions to Alice as she hands her colourful Christmas lights and tinsel from the tray in her hand.

Alice stands bare-foot on a low stool as she reaches upward to decorate. The dark pink nail varnish on her toes matching her mini skirt and earrings perfectly and her hair is twisted in small curls…if she was slightly more miniature they could have easily put her atop the tree instead of the fairy and nobody would have known any better.

Closer to me, Emmett sits on the couch, highly absorbed in the re-run of some football game. His legs are propped on the table in front of him, and he eats from an extra large bag of Chucks Onion and Gravy Chips. You know the type that are fried in deep fat and make you feel sick after two, but you can't stop eating?

Yeah, they're really gross.

He sits up.

"_Get back to the bench you fucking pussy!!!!" _

"Emmett. Language." Esme says tolerantly.

"Sorry, Ma." He says not looking at her and filling his mouth with more chips.

Next to Emmett is Edward. To say he looks like death warmed up would be putting it nicely.

His skin is pale and he has purple dents under his eyes as he gazes absently at the TV like it's an unidentified object. He's still in the same clothes as yesterday like maybe he went to bed in them or didn't go to bed at all. He wears a grey, unzipped, UCLA sweatshirt on top of his shirt with the hood over his head like he wants to hide from the world.

A small but prominent blue-grey bruise adorns the skin underneath his bottom lip where Tanya hit him, and it makes my chest pain and hate her with even more ferociousness, if that's possible.

Suddenly, Alice jumps down from her stool and pulls down Edwards hood.

Giggling she places red tinsel that she's made into a halo shape on top of his head. "You look like a cute-heart, Eddie!"

Edward blinks away from the TV and manages a minute smile at his sister, then takes the tinsel off and flips his hood back up when she flounces away.

I watch the intimate family scene like an unwelcome intruder and am almost tempted to turn back around and switch to humming Christmas tunes in my bedroom. However somewhere inside, I know that might translate into being cowardly, so I walk inside and mumble a barely coherent, "Morning."

There is a murmur of response from everybody and a "shh" and wave-down from Emmett.

I stop at the couch beside Edward, and stand awkwardly, fiddling with the pockets of my jeans.

At first he looks straight ahead at the TV, but not being able to ignore the power of my stare any longer, his eyes flick toward me.

Electric current jolts up my spine but I force myself to speak.

"Um… I bought this." I offer him his base-ball like a peace offering.

Edwards fingers are warm against my hand as he takes it from me.

"Thanks." He sounds so weary and drained that I just want to hug him, or decorate him with more tinsel so he can at least pretend to look happy.

Instead, I put my hands in my pockets and follow his example by looking absently at the window behind the TV like it's the most interesting thing in the world.

So where to start?

I plan out a possible conversation starters in my head.

_Hi Edward, remember yesterday? We have to re- ignite that painful and awkward conversation so we actually make some type of sense. _

…_You look like crap by the way._

…_.I'm sorry for letting this idiocy go on for so long. It's clearly a genetic fault._

…_Nice bruise._

…_Where did you go last night? I came to look for you, __a__nd I couldn't sleep thinking about how you probably might not come back…_

…_.I think I love you._

I bite my lip and stare at the little droplets of rain that have started to gather and congregate on the window ledge.

Emmett glances sporadically between me and the TV, "Chips?" He holds the packet toward me, in front of Edward's face, blocking his view from the game he's not really watching.

"No thanks." I say, oddly polite (something clearly wrong there).

"What? They taste --- look where you're going you _fucking_ ass-wipe, _look!"_ he screams, distracted.

Esme sighs in defeat.

Oh fuck.

I smell the expensive perfume float through the living room, even before I see her.

"Good morning Emmett, Alice, Esme, Edward."

That's a lot of vowels all at once.

Tanya comes to a sudden halt five feet away from me all fucking perfect and natural in her short, black halter neck dress and purple frill boots.

Completely ignoring me she says "Edward, I think we should talk."

_What?_

Bitch made it look so _easy._

Edward turns toward her, frustrated.

"What, right now?"

"Yes, now." She says adamantly.

He sighs and shakes his head.

The tension in the room is instantly palpable.

Alice visibly stiffens but doesn't turn away from tree, Esme looks up, perplexed, Emmett continues to be entranced by the TV and I feel like running over and punching her on her perfect little mouth to give her a bruise that matches Edward's. I don't though, because it would be really impolite to start a scene (clearly something wrong with me: see that polite thing pop up again?), and if anyone should match with Edward it should be me.

At first Edward looks like he's going to either protest or say something really bitchy, but then he rubs his thumb at the side of his eye and stands up.

I stiffen.

No.

Don't go.

"Is everything okay? ..." Esme takes a step forward, and then her expression changes, "Edward what _happened to_ your face?"

Edward sighs dejectedly, "Nothing, Mom."

Goose pimples prick my skin, as he brushes my arm when he moves past. Then without looking my way, he stalks out.

Tanya follows, thundering past me all irate and agitated-looking in her frilly boots.

"Emmett? Alice?" Esme persists, "Bella… what's going on?"

I shrug and fall to the couch, "I don't get involved in such business," then I grab Emmett's chips violently from his fingers and eat every single one of those buggers with a ferociousness that I never knew was possible.

****

I meant to give them ten minutes. Fifteen at the most.

I get side-tracked by breakfast.

Then Grandma Cullen arrives all the way from her home in London and I spend most of the morning catching up about my life at USC and her new husband El- Francesco (yes, it's really a name) because well, she's one of the few people I like.

Late afternoon, Rosalie's Mom turns up with Rosalie's two year old sister Summer and fifteen year old sister Annabel, who is like a mini-Rosalie, except that she has curlier hair and smiles more. Whenever Annabel laughs, I think the world has stopped spinning on its axis, because I think I'm hearing Rosalie actually enjoying herself. Then I realise it's not her and everything feels normal again.

People talk, babies cry …there's hugs, rejoicing and lots of delicious food, yet amidst all the noise and laughter all I can think about is Edward.

How is it possible to be under the same roof someone, yet feel miles away?

I'm in living room eating-slash-fiddling with fruit sundae whilst Annabel informs me in extreme detail about how her growth spurt meant that she went from an A cup to a DD, making all the boys in class happy.

"So there was this guy called Kyle and he bought me a rose and this cute little box for valentines. I thought it might a ring or a necklace but it was actually a mini can of whipped cream …."

I drown her out, my eyes travelling to the door, something they've been doing all afternoon. Everything inside me elates and heightens, like I've been doing too much pot and red-bull, whenever I see someone walk toward the door, then collapses to an extreme low when it's not him.

This can't be good for me.

"So at first I was like no, but then he got really stalkerish and spent most of his time standing outside my bedroom, singing me love songs and copying my hair-style—"

I straighten when I see a shadow in the doorway.

I sigh inwardly.

Jasper walks in scratching his Metallica shirt and giggling to himself.

Fucker.

He's been lying about his lack of stash. I'm going kill his sorry--

Somebody snaps their fingers in front of my face and I look up at the most smartly dressed and youthful looking Grandmother ever to exist ( trust me I've seen enough be the expert opinion on this).

"Crikey Bella, if you look anymore glum I'm going to have to start calling you the Grinch."

I roll my eyes. "I didn't know bad Christmas jokes were hereditary."

"Pardon me?"

"Nothing."

"Here," she hands me two cream-colored, pure wool sweatshirts. "For you."

Much to the mystification of Emmett and Alice; Edward and I always get an extra gift from her each year. They're always some type of clothing, they're always both exactly the same, with one slightly larger, like a his and hers set.

"You been knitting again?" I ask appreciatively taking the sweatshirts from her. Maybe I don't need to go shopping for tops after all… suddenly I love this sassy, crazy, English lady even more.

"It's a natural talent of mine."

"You're fabulous." I lie.

We both knew she buys all her clothes from expensive designer boutiques because the tags on the back say so, but she likes to be humoured, so I play along.

"Now go give Edward his." She says grabbing my sundae out of my fingers.

"I don't know where he is---"

"Go find the young brat will you…," she says, shaking her bobbed grey hair in mock annoyance, "tell him that Grandmother is hugely pissed that he hasn't shown his pretty face all morning. Tell him to pluck his head out of his bottom and come say hello or I'll boycott the inheritance his Gramps left him… and tell him yes, Belinda Cullen still has the power to do that."

Annabel giggles.

"I'm scared."

"You should be, sweetheart. It'll affect you too. Now move it," she says, tapping my shoulder with two fingers, with nails that are glossed to the max.

I have no idea what she means by that, but I've come to accept that Belinda Cullen is the only person that can be even more random than me. Glad to get out of the downward spiral of staring longingly at the door, I leave the living room unquestioningly.

I'm in the process of aimlessly walking the long, expansive corridor when Rosalie struts out of the kitchen looking flushed, holding two plates of chocolate cake.

"Kitchen," she says even before I ask her where Edward is. Then nodding to the plates in her hands, "I need a hand feeding the masses," she says like she's going to throw food at starved orphans that Esme and Carlisle have kindly let congregate in the living room.

I nod to the sweatshirts in my hand, "I need to give this to Edward."

"Whatever," She storms past me without another look.

"Yeah. Whatever." I huff at her back.

I hate it when people end conversations with "whatever". Its so non-descript you know?

Picking up pace, I walk toward the aroma of baking cookies and oranges, push open the heavy door and stop instantly.

He's changed into a khakis and I wonder if it was a conscious effort on his part that his blue, unbuttoned, polo t-shirt manages to compliment his bruise perfectly. Hair damp from the shower, he's holding a baking tray with a flowery oven mitt over one hand, like some perfect house husband.

I'm not sure if I find it sexy or humorous that Rosalie's managed to rope him into The Great Cullen Bakathon, but I notice Tanya standing next to him glowering crossly with her hands on her hips, and it spoils my mood all over again.

She's fucking talented with this Debbie Downer and Gloomy Gloria shit she's got going on.

"Hey guys!" I stroll in plastering a huge fake grin across my face.

They barely notice me, continuing to argue in low heated voices.

Suddenly Edward slams the tray against the counter-top and angrily shrugs out of the oven glove, like it's the gloves fault that Tanya is dumb and insane.

"Edward, I need to talk to you," I say.

Edward glances at me, but then Tanya grabs his elbow and says something in his ear shifting his attention away from me.

His expression turns sourer as she continues her whispered mantra or sing-along or _whatever._

Why is she standing so close to him?

I don't like it one bit.

"_Dammit, EDWARD!"_ I cry.

"Ridiculous," Tanya snaps so that I can hear, "She even calls your name like your forefathers came off the slave boats and were sold to hers in shillings."

….What the fuck?

Ignoring her, I take a step toward them.

"Grandma wants me to give you your sweatshirt and mentioned something about giving me all your inheritance if you don't go see her right now."

Tanya takes a step toward me in counter attack.

"You really don't take a hint do you? Move it. We're talking. Privately. In fact I think you should go and throw yourself from --,"

"Tanya, don't," Edward warns cutting her off and taking a step forward too. It's like the three person river-dance.

Tanya whips her head toward him and takes a step back again.

I think she just spoiled our rhythm.

"Don't? Why Edward? I'm not _completely _oblivious to what's going on here! You might not come clean about whatever went on in the study, but whatever it is; I know that _she _has to have started it."

I sigh; she needs to get a fucking hobby. "Nothing happen--,"

"She's the problem, can't you see it?! Have you seen that pathetic way she looks at you? It's so fucking needy. Throw the girl a bone before she overdoses from delusion."

Edwards jaw clenches but he doesn't say anything.

I hold the sweatshirts tightly to my chest.

"So?" Tanya continues, loudly now, not seeming to care that I'm here too, "you have a decision to make, Edward."

Edwards eyes flick toward me and our gazes hold.

My heartbeat speeds up in an unsteady rhythm.

He doesn't have to say it.

_I know._

I know what she's asking of him.

I wonder if it would have made a difference if I hadn't delayed it all day and just told him already.

I hate words right now.

Why can't he just _understand?_

After all, the voice in my head constantly screams it in tempo with the tremulous pulse of my heart.

_I love you. I love you. I love you_.

…But I'm not sure if it even matters anymore.

Edward licks his lip and looks away.

The door swings open and Alice bounces in cheerily.

"Edward, Mom wants to know what's taking you so long to check on the ginger bread…" she stops in her tracks, instantly picking up on the tension. "Is everything okay?

"Well?" Tanya ignores her, raising her eyebrows at Edward commandingly.

Edward lets out an annoyed grunt, "You _seriously_ want me to choose between you or Bella?"

"Yes." Tanya admits confidently, "I'm even willing to forget whatever happened yesterday… perhaps even all your past mistakes. However you have to make a choice now. Make the right choice Edward, otherwise my bags are packed and ready to go."

I blink. She's really got the whole authoritarian principle thing going on. Maybe a possible career path?

Edward runs his hand through his hair and snorts. "This is ridiculous. It's Christmas for Chrissake, I don't expect you to leave now. Where would you go?"

I roll my eyes exasperated. As much as I love Edwards do-gooder attitude, this is taking it a bit far. I could personally name a few interesting places she could rocket up to this Christmas.

"I have no choice! I can't ignore this anymore! I come here because you invited me to meet your family and--,"

"You invited yourself!" Edward yells, aggravated.

"I thought it would be_ nice_ to meet them!"

Edward rubs at the stubble on his chin tiredly.

Emmett walks in.

"Her. Or. Me." Tanya says threateningly.

I try to ignore the strange way my stomach clenches in panic by staring the way her cheek ticks every three seconds. It's actually quite funny when you think about it--

"Oh jeez. Again? ...Does this need popcorn?" Emmett says grabbing a carton of juice from the counter-top.

Edward glares at Emmett in a way that would make vile expletives look tame. Emmett shrugs and drinks straight from the juice carton from his spectator spot.

Tanya stamps her frilly boot on the dark wood of the kitchen floor, gathering all eyes back to her like the attention whore that she is.

"Why do you even have to decide? I'm your girlfriend, Edward!" She grabs his face and it makes me cringe and want to break her fingers, "Baby, we're for real. Not stuff that goes on behind closed doors and forgotten." When Edward doesn't answer she gets irritated, "Fuck, I don't get your fascination with her. She's so fucking lame. Why is she even _here?"_

Alice tugs at my arm, pulling me toward the exit, "Bells, lets get out of here," her voice trembles with emotion and I wonder if she's going to cry.

I tumble backward, but pull my wrist out of her grasp, sickly entranced at the scene before me.

I'm not going anywhere.

Is it masochistic that I'm this spellbound by something that is so painful to watch?

I can't help it.

Tanya isn't the only one that needs to know.

It's true. She is a materialistic, self centred, bitch, yet it's just dawned on me that she's also the force that's going to catapult us into change.

Who would have thought that out of all people in the world, it would be her?

She's asked a question this Christmas, that will no doubt alter everything. A question with consequences. Consequences that should have probably been confronted by Edward and I long time ago.

No matter what his answer is, Christmas with the Cullens was definitely going to change for me after today. Habits, routines… this never ending spiral with Edward… was going to break.

It's the most terrifying thing in my world, but I have to know too. I have to know that those secret promises and unveiled confessions in the study yesterday weren't for nothing.

I need to know.

Tanya's gone into rant mode. Everything about her is stiff and she's all high-pitched and screechy. If I wasn't so wrought up I would have probably shared popcorn with Emmett and laughed until I was blue in the face.

"It's time to cut her loose, Edward. You're better than her. All she does is walk around making stupid comments, throwing you puppy dog looks with her nipples on full display…she doesn't ever wear a bra for Chrissake!"

"Stop it." Edward says again. More harshly.

"No, I won't!" she cried adamantly, "Don't you dare choose her Edward! I can find you trash on the street who is better at wrapping her tongue around your dick-- She's a fucking leech who's been stuck to your family for God knows how long, it's time you--,"

"Hey, hey, lady, now that's outta line!" Emmett says angrily slamming the carton on the counter.

I hear a gasp as the kitchen door swings closed and Esme puts her arms around my shoulders protectively, like it might undo what she just said.

It's strange.

It's strange that when you hear something you've been dreading your whole life, sometimes you feel nothing at all.

Tanya's up on her bogus podium now, preaching to all of us like some crazy… preacher.

"Why are you shocked? You all should hear it. Even her father moved across the country. She's inconvenient. Nobody wants her!"

I stare hard at that tick in her cheek.

You really need to see it for yourself to understand it's full emphasis.

She's looking at me directly, "Do you get it, Bella? Nobody. Especially not Edward--"

"Get out." Edward says.

Tanya stops.

His voice is low, but I've never seen him look this furious.

Tanya looks surprised.

"What?"

"Go on. Leave. _Now."_

"Really?" she asks disbelievingly.

"Really."

There's a second of stillness, as everybody absorbs what just happened. Esme squeezes my arm tighter.

"Fine," Tanya tosses her head, "But you're driving me to Seattle. There's no way I'm taking the bus"

Edward groans and then says through clenched teeth, "Let's do that. I have some matters to discuss with you."

Without looking at any of us Tanya walks out of the exit opposite, into the dining room.

Edward grabs his keys from the top of the refrigerator, his profile toward me.

Glancing up at me, he mouths "sorry" like he's apologetic for a lot more than what Tanya just said.

He looks so upset and saddened that it breaks my heart.

Then he turns to the backdoor that Tanya's just disappeared through.

I shake my head.

_No. _

I struggle out Esme's grasp wondering why everyone is so intent on holding onto me like I'm about to break, and take one step forward, sudden courage embracing me from a place I didn't know even existed.

This is not how I expected to say it.

Not when I'm so vulnerable.

Especially not with this much company.

But I have to say this now because just like every year before, he's leaving.

And every Christmas when he leaves, a small part of me bruises and I don't think I can take it anymore, because I'm afraid that I might stop healing altogether.

"Edward?" He turns back to look at me.

The creaking of the door that moves back and forth behind him is the only noise that I hear.

I take a deep breath.

I hate the way my voice trembles and shudders.

I hate the way that even though I've been completely unclothed in front of Edward, I've never felt this naked in my life.

I hate the way that it sounds so insignificant when it escapes from my mouth, yet it's probably the most momentous thing in my entire life.

"I love you."

Silence, calm, expectation like the eye of the storm.

He blinks like he doesn't get it, expression emotionless.

Then eyes not leaving mine he nods in acknowledgement, turns around, and walks out.

I break.

***

Okay so I guess I owe you some fluff...?

Reviews are loved, devoured, appreciated etc.


	11. Chapter 10

_Righty, er FF was definitely being interesting.... I thought I would try once more before shut-eye and wahay it worked! For future ref, i also post at Twilighted and sorting out some type of LiveJournal, so you know where to find me. Links on my profile. _

**Christmas With the Cullens**

**Chapter 10**

_**December 23**__**rd**_

Those moments he's gone, I'm lost.

Hours and seconds mish-mash and bleed into one another, dusk becomes dawn, and somehow time keeps moving. Morning, afternoon, evening.

I find him at sunset.

He's in one of his old, dark-blue jackets, arms straight at his side, lying on part of a fallen tree that creeps like a thick rustic log over the frozen lake. For a second he's so still that I can't tell if he's Edward or just a log that's managed to impersonate him really well. But then he opens his eyes and sits up when I move closer, crossing his legs to make room for me.

Pulling my hands out my pale blue hoody to balance myself, I take a single step on the slippery log and then wobble. Edward gives me his hand. It's ice-cold yet strong as he pulls me forward toward him, probably placing my clumsiness down to my general inability to walk in a straight line. Little does he know that bribing Jasper is so much easier when you're sad and heartbroken.

I fall beside him and pull my knees to my chest. The frozen lake surrounds us in a great circle of glazed ice and frosted white. It's magic and breath-taking and dizzying (this effect might have other sources) and pure nostalgia. It's this type of moment that I live for.

"Can you hear it Bella?" Edward from beside me, his voice is soft, soothing. "The water is coming back into being."

I manage a small smile, "It's my most favourite sound in the world."

We listen to the melodic hum of lake water and the gentle cracking of ice as they battle each other for survival. Our faces lit in the pink and golden stains of the sunset, we try to conjure up words that might make some type of sense.

He speaks first.

"I'm sorry that you had to stand there and listen to all of that. I'm sorry I left like that. I was a little overwhelmed. I'm just…. sorry." He looks it as well. Sorry, sad, apologetic.

I'm sorry too.

His earnest, sincere words make it much easier for me to begin.

"It's okay," I say staring at my rapidly-chilling fingers, "I apologise for pouncing on you with that crazy emotional stuff when you least expected it." I mean it couldn't have been easy with a psycho barbie ready to leap on him from behind too, right?

I guess it can't be easy laying it all out, and having the other person disregard the hell out of you either. Repeatedly.

I glance at his profile and although he doesn't look at me, all I see are repercussions. A small bruise, eyes that are weary….a body that's tired of stepping on egg shells.

Questions, there's still so many.

Apologies are not quite enough.

Words and confessions seem necessary.

And everything releases from me like a huge breath that I've been holding for much too long.

"I wasn't expecting for it to come out like that, but it did, and it's true. I love you. God, I've loved you for so long…and now I can't take it back…" I bite my lip and look ahead, wishing there's someway that I can slow down words so they don't run into each other and mix up like a long-painful echo, "I can't hide anymore. I tried to hide it, deny it, ignore it. I tried running away, coming back to you, and then running away again. It didn't work. None of it did… so deal."

Edward turns to me and raises his eyebrows, only half mocking, "So _deal_?"

I shrug. "I think I realised when we were fourteen. The Christmas after I started getting really horny--"

"There was a _Christmas _when that phenomenon was birthed?" Despite his beat state, he manages to look humored.

"Shut it!" I warn shoving at his knee with my hand, but don't stop with my angst-filled confession.

Perhaps it's thanks to the smoothest-fucking-weed I've ever smoked in my life that's working its way around my system, or the twenty champagne truffles I consumed after…perhaps it's my need to get it out there once and for all…or maybe the absolute yearning to see more of that smile that lights up his whole face. But I do it. I go on.

I'm hella brave, I am.

"It was our fourteenth Christmas together when I started having these strange feelings toward you… Like it was my life goal to run my fingers through your hair and touch your cheekbones and lips, and just kiss you… I hated it when you paid more attention to anyone other than me. Even your Mom."

It's not a lie. At one point I called Esme the devil. To her face.

"They came from nowhere. Those feelings were weird and not too snazzy, they freaked me out….and that's why I ignored you all the time by the way."

Curious, I look up. His breath makes small misty clouds around his mouth, and his eyes are fixated on me as he listens intently, but I can't tell if he thinks I'm a total moron or not. I feel like one, but because I'm a complete sucker I _still _go on.

"I know my attitude upset you and I know it made you sad, but I couldn't help it. I guess the thought of you finding out the truth and laughing at me was more terrifying. I remember how you went out to play baseball with Emmett that Christmas and you never asked me to come along…"

"I remember that too," he murmurs and I'm not sure if he's talking to me or himself.

"Yep." I clarify, "You would always ask me and that Christmas you didn't. I was so mad at myself, and mad at you and mad at everything. I cried and hit things. I never wanted to speak to you again, yet at the same time I didn't want you to be mad at me for never speaking to you. I guess that's when I knew that I loved you…"

I trail off realizing I'm saying stuff that sounds a lot like cheap garbage.

_That's when I knew I loved you?_

Fuck, it's like quoting from a badly written harlequin (not that I would know anything about those).

Why does this shit have to be so complicated?

"You want a smoke?" I ask suddenly.

Edward shakes his head, still expressionless and deep in thought or remembrance.

It was worth a try, I guess.

I take a deep breath and wait. The air is crisp against my face, cold, wrought with anticipation.

It's the longest wait of my life.

Say something, dammit.

Tell me how you feel.

Tell me you're mad.

Tell me if you slept last night, or if your dreams were filled anxiety and wondering, helplessness and pure need.

Tell me that you hate me for playing with your heart like that, letting it drag for so long….

Tell me you love me too.

He doesn't.

I panic and try to fill the silence with hopeless, pointless words.

"Yes. I admit it!" I cry, even though he's not asking. "I've been a goddamn coward."

I hate that there's no reaction to my strident confession. How can he cover what he's feeling so well? I've never been any good at that.

At least, I hope he's covering it.

Otherwise he's not feeling anything at all. And _that _hurts.

"Shit, Edward, I've never _had_ to commit to anything. I've been to five different boarding schools for Chrissake! You were stable and I didn't want to lose that, and the more I ignored it… the safer I felt."

He nods. Once.

Come on Edward, throw me a bone or sumthin' so that I can stop my mouth from completely ruining me.

It might already be too late for that though.

"At fifteen… when you confessed that you loved me, I just pretended nothing existed. It was easier to deny. I pretended that I hadn't heard because I was so scared to quit this habit of …pretending."

Wow that's a lot of 'pretending.' Does that make me a 'pretender?'

"But then you took it back and now I understand why you did. It was because of me ….and _God_…"

I give up.

I'm an idiot.

There's not much else to say.

"So fourteen, huh?"

Hallelujah. He speaks.

"Yes." I squeak.

"I don't remember a time when I fell in love with you—" he begins.

"It's okay." I shrug nonchalantly. "I think I've accepted that you might not be in that place anymore."

I don't blame him.

It still hurts to hear it though.

Even after preparing myself.

Too much.

He smiles gently and then looks back into the sunset and I just stare at the way his long lashes make shadows against his beautiful face, with fascination, longing, and a tinge of regret.

"There was no real defining moment for me, because I don't remember a time that I didn't feel about you the way I do today."

I blink, overwhelmed.

"I think… I_ know_ I've loved you ever since I've known you, Bella. It was always like this. I don't expect it will ever change."

He says it so simply, without any thought or deliberation. Like it's the most simple, the most _natural_ thing in the world.

"Wow."

It's the most I can summon up right now.

I think I might puke, too.

Then he chuckles and I'm not sure at what could possibly be funny in this situation.

I like seeing him smile though. I like it a lot.

"I'm a logical guy, Bella. For a long time it didn't make sense to me. I had to try something… experiment to see what all of this meant. I tried screwing around with other girls. I thought maybe those stupid teenage hormones would placate with age… that maybe all I needed was diversion. It didn't seem right that I was well…this _obsessed_ with someone."

He looks at me.

Warmth surrounds me, lessening the cold, in the almost-freezing evening.

I know he's not making it up either. That Tanya incident kinda proved it, right?

"I even thought that perhaps I could love someone else…maybe not in the exact same way, but differently than you."

"It didn't work out, huh?"

"I think this Christmas just exemplified that it didn't."

_Oh._

Then I do something really inappropriate.

I laugh.

Really laugh.

I clutch my stomach and laugh for around five minutes whilst Edward simply watches me with this kind of morbid fascination.

Talk about being _buh-zzed._

I laugh so hard that I'm crying. I'm not sure if they're tears of laughter, disjointed happiness or just pure relief.

I finish with a couple of loose giggles here and there, wondering if Edward's going to jump up and bolt.

He doesn't though; he simply smiles back at me all accepting and sweet.

Slowly, like a budding lily something inside of me opens, softens, and cautiously reaches forward.

I want to reach forward for real, too.

Instead I say, "So are you saying Barbie-bot was just an experiment? You really are a true scientist."

"And you really have a talent for making things sound crude," he hits back.

"It makes me happy."

"Being crude?"

"That science is your passion."

He shrugs, "If it makes you happy, than that's gotta count."

"Come on Edward!" I groan hating that he's not bitching her out. Why is he so damned stubborn for absolutely no reason? "She fucking damaged you!"

"Well," he says in a rational counter attack, "we did kinda have sex behind her back."

It's true.

More my fault than his.

I still don't want to hear it though. I mean, it doesn't take away from the fact that she's a barbotic bitch.

"I'm surprised she didn't batter you on the way to Seattle," I huff.

Something crosses his face and I pause.

His eyes fall and I gasp.

There's a red and swollen scratch peeking through the gap in his coat. It starts from underneath his shirt and then makes its way past the unbuttoned collar and half way up his neck.

"_Oh my god!_" I cry, leaning toward him and running my fingers alongside the scratch from his neck, down to his collarbone, "She did _this?_ You should press charges!"

I fucking hate her to an extremity. I hope both she and her fucking poodle drown in her pool. I just know she has a large heated pool in her apartment. She seems the type, you know?

Edward looks slightly entertained and then says in all seriousness, "Can you imagine trying to explain our situation?"

"Hmm," my hand stops at his chest so that I can feel the gentle thrum of his heartbeat, steady and solid against my palm. "It _is_ slightly fucked up."

He laughs lightly.

"A little," his eyes fall to my hand.

"A lot." I say coyly, my hand dropping to my side.

He runs his hand through his hair and my fingers twitch. I haven't done that for so long. I wonder if the texture is still the same. If he'll still blush and get embarrassed like he used to when we were young.

"There's been so many ridiculous misunderstandings." Edward says more grimly now, "That time … in your bedroom…"

"When we had sex?" I volunteer, automatically knowing what he's talking about.

It's the one thing that hangs dark and unsettling over our heads.

Such a prominent, important moment that only led to more ruin and misunderstanding.

"It's something that still kills me, Bella." His voice is regretful. "I just wish you had told me you were a virgin."

I roll my eyes, "I was sixteen Edward. I thought it was obvious that I would be a virgin!"

"It sure as hell didn't _sound_ like you were a virgin."

"Huh? What did I _sound_ like?" He must be really good to know the difference.

"Your words, Bella." Edward says frustrated, "Not your sex noises."

"Oh_._ Well, despite what I told you about my midnight rendezvous' at boarding school, none of my room-mates stuck things inside me, none of them sucked on my nipples, and I think it's quite clear I didn't lose my virginity to any of them either."

"So that thing with Christina –"

"--was a lie. My bunk-buddy was actually called Catherine. I just loved seeing you squirm and I know it turned you on so…" I shrug.

Edward gives me the type of look that says he wants to laugh, but is much too horrified to do so. It's so damn cute that I want to jump him.

That might be a little dangerous, however, with our position on the tree and the danger of falling into cracking ice and all, so I just giggle.

"Both completely inexperienced, virginal, fools." I inform him.

He shakes his head disbelievingly, "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Yet you still confessed your undying love for me."

"It's pathetic, I know." He says resignedly.

"That you are."

He clears his throat and his brow furrows in contemplation, "So, um, this Christina, she was really, _completely_ make believe?"

My eyes widen.

He looks so disappointed at the revelation of my faux, orgy-loving, bed buddy that I try really hard not to spasm into my marijuana induced attack.

_Don't laugh. Don't laugh. Don't laugh._

It's hard though.

Edward notices my effort.

"_Hey!_ She was hot, okay."

"She definitely knew how to enjoy a woman."

"I just liked her enjoying you." He replies cheekily.

I roll my eyes: men.

"Did it get you off, Edward?" I tease.

"Lets just say it was a source of, er, stimulation on lonely nights."

_Oh God._

Mental images. Everywhere.

He's the only person in the world who can turn me on this much through mere suggestion.

I know I'm blushing wildly too.

He turns toward me so that his legs are crossed in front of me, and I think he's going to reach over, touch me, but he just leans his forehead toward me and talks in low voice, like he's making a confession. "I have regrets though, Bella. So many. We could have talked….made it better. But it became strained and got so much worse. I wish it hadn't ended in that huge argument. I wish it hadn't gotten so blown out of proportion. I wish I had been more sensitive… I _fuck_… I made you bleed."

"I hate to educate, since your classes should have covered this, but this_ is_ what normally happens when you push it in a girl for the first time."

"Thanks," He says sarcastically, "I'll take note for future reference."

"You plan on making it a regular occurrence?" I joke, "Edward The Deflowerer. Like The Terminator, but different."

Edward gives me his 'Do I look amused?' face and despite his annoyed façade I see something falter and hurt in his eyes as he looks away from me.

He feels bad.

He's felt bad for a long time.

I'm not even sure why.

True, he assumed I was a non- virgin and then got on his high horse when it became blatantly obvious I wasn't…but hell, it's not like I took a step forward and ever actually told him either.

I should have. Especially if I'd known the act of being deflowered by Edward the Deflowerer was going to hurt _that _much.

I look at him and remember how much he's tried to pursue me, defeat me, badger me. How many steps he's taken, even when all I've done is push him back.

"Don't regret," I say tersely, "Let bygones be. We're talking now, aren't we?"

It's not a leap; hell, it's not even a step. But it's not nothing either.

He nods in acknowledgement, but if I know him at all, I know he'll continue to regret it for a long time to come.

"Promise me something?"

"Yes." Anything.

"You'll trust me."

"I _do_ trust you."

"Enough to be completely open with me? Talk to me. Communicate with me. We've both been stupid, careless with each other. Hurt. Let's not let this happen again, I don't think I could take it if it does…."

"Uhuh," I nod solemnly. "Communication. The ultimate key."

"I'm serious, Bella." And he does sound like serious business.

"I'll give it a try." And I'm being honest.

"Okay."

I'm not sure if he's saying okay because it's really okay, or he's saying okay but really wishing for more. I mean "okay" isn't the most descriptive of words.

I exhale and look down at my battered chucks with heavy lids, a darkened grey against the pure white ice. I guess I could mull it over, analyze, wonder for days about what the meaning of "okay" is… but that would make me a loser, and I'm…I'm so tired right now.

Emotional fatigue hits me like a tonne of bricks and I let my chin rest on my knees and close my eyes, half afraid I'm going to fall headfirst into the frozen lake.

This rollercoaster's been crazy, painful… revealing.

He's already asking for promises and commitments, and I guess, after everything, it's the least that he deserves. A small weight hangs in the pit of my stomach because there's so much expectation and it scares the hell out of me.

There's also regret, because somehow we both diligently and singlehandedly managed to ruin something that might have been great. I mean, do we have it in us to fix this much past?

Yet there's another feeling the clutches me tighter. It's shiny and pretty, like grasping for multicoloured butterflies under a cloudless sky. It helps Tanya's words fade, and I think I'm beginning to understand why people like Alice walk with that silly skip in their step.

It makes me want to sing tuneless Christmas carols to strangers, whilst snowflakes gently caress my cheeks. It makes me want to dance all night with only the music of the rain as my guide. It makes me want to rest my head on Edward's shoulder and sleep this exhaustion off because in the wide take, none of it matters.

Because this exhaustion is completely worth it.

I open my eyes and I know all along he's been watching me cautiously, trying to suss my mood or figure if I'm going to laugh hysterically, or break out into hymns under the rapidly darkening sky.

"Are we going to be okay?" I blurt. It comes out in a bare whisper.

He smiles. Warmth, fondness, something else that's tender yet boldly sincere, "We're going to be more than okay. We're going to be amazing."

In an innocent gesture, he twines his fingers in mine, and drops the softest kiss on my knuckles.

And I believe him.

****

Ok a couple of things, I guess.

1. WTF Edward! why took you so long? 2. What the hell did Bella do apart from have a session with Jas for the last 24 hours?.... Wellll… I wanted to do that part a bit different, it's a possible multiple POV. I decided not to put it in this story- so watch out for a possible out-take in the future! Oh and hello to all that came out of lurkdom to say hi. *waves*

And naww it's not over, people! Not before they get some well deserved lovin'!


	12. Chapter 11

**So, I've got to warn you this ones still not edited and written on 3 hours worth of sleep. So if it's really rubbish or a chapter from another story I blame it on the hullucinations.**

**Christmas With the Cullens**

**Chapter 11**

I believe him. Unquestioningly, unguardedly, completely.

It probably sounds quite sad and desperate if you really put some thought into it.

Like if Edward suddenly admits that he's not actually Edward, but a magical centaur-creature that's come from the woods to take me horse-back riding, I would pull out a saddle and straddle him without another word.

So what… does this make me weak? Anti-feminist? Too easy to take for a ride? (heh - get it?... _never mind_) or just someone with a really over-active imagination?

Maybe all of the above.

Or maybe none.

Maybe this is what it feels like to know you belong to someone, know that you've always belonged and suddenly you realise fight is dying out, and giving in feels kinda _good. _

Much too good.

It's scary.

Perhaps it will be amazing or maybe it will be the biggest mistake of my life, but I guess I'll never know until I try. Until I take that tiny step forward.

And I'm too tired to not _try_ anymore.

I'm too tired to keep fighting this force that's overtaken my life. This force that has bought me where I am now, today, in this moment…clasping tight onto Edwards hand, surrounded by a circle of dimming white, watching the fiery golden ring around the sun dip into nothingness.

I look at our entwined hands, outlines and shadows, in the dusky evening and I clutch him tighter, not wanting to let go, ever.

It's silent, but not the type of silence Edward and I have endured before.

It's not awkward or angry or reeked with sexual frustration. It's expectant, a little weary, yet somehow desperate and ready too. A silence of new beginnings.

"Ow," Edward says all of a sudden, "Easy on, Bella."

"Oh…um, I'm sorry," I say sheepishly, but don't lessen my hold on him. I can't right now. "I don't mean to hurt it with my stone solid fingers."

"Medusa hands."

"Medusa face."

"Medusa…everything"

I punch him lightly with my free hand.

"You punch like a girl too."

"Shut up," I warn, "or else I'll use my steel hard grip to grip something you won't like."

"Sweetheart, I'll like anything that you grip."

"Are you trying it on, Edward?" I shove his shoulder with mine playfully.

"Well that depends."

"On what?"

"Whether you want me to try it."

"When have I ever not wanted you to?" I ask boldly but my voice breaks and comes out a lot sadder than I mean it to.

Edward sighs, and the light mood shifts. I really am a kill-joy today. "Come _on_ Bella, you know I did that because--,"

"--I _know,_ to not hurt me, to not use me. To remain ever gentlemanly or whatever."

Wow. I sound bitter. _Am I bitter?_

"So many times that I just wanted to do this."

Curiously I look up, but I can't make out his expression under the twilit, starless evening.

I'm caught off guard, as he cups my face in his hands and lightly, as soft as the flutter of butterfly wings brushes his mouth against mine. Just once.

It's the first time he's begun any type of physical move this Christmas, and I can't help the small whimper that escapes my lips at the warm contact.

Encouraged, he pushes forward and I grab at his hair with the hand that's not holding him, dragging him closer against my body. We struggle between shoving at each others mouths and balancing on the log.

The kiss is sporadic. Hot, frantic pecks on the mouth. It doesn't last long.

I sit back and can just about make out Edwards eye lashes as his fingers move to my chapped, cold mouth, gently tracing the pattern of my lips, like he's entranced.

I'm shivering all over and it's not because of the cold.

A small splatter of wetness hits my cheek and I look up, "It's going to rain." I inform, my breath coming out in warm puffs against his fingers.

Edward nods and leans back. His index finger moves away from my lips last of all, almost reluctantly.

Stumbling upward, his hand still grasped tightly in mine, I lead the way.

I tumble off the log toward the end, and am quite proud of myself because I don't find myself headfirst in the lake. It's a pleasant surprise.

We move swiftly and fast, like we've been assigned some important NASA mission. Understanding is implicit, yet somehow words aren't needed as we speed past trees, shrubbery, feet crunching on fallen leaves.

Its pitch black, but it's okay because I know this place like the back of my hand. I could probably do this walk blindfolded. I probably _would_ if I didn't have a personal dislike for centaurs.

I blink as we reach the clearing, my eyes adjusting to the dim lighting of the well-groomed lawn.

Rosalie is highlighted in a fuzzy yellow glow, as she sits on the porch steps, Emmett's huge winter jacket dwarfing her shoulders. She's holding a cup of something that's steaming and probably tastes like crap and smells even worse. I'd blame it on the pregnancy, but she's always been into foul-smelling nourishment.

Emmett stands in the middle of the lawn, facing Rosalie and practicing his bowling moves at her without letting go of the ball.

"Welcome back, Ed. Did we finally kiss and make-up?" he teases halting his ridiculous movements as we stalk past.

Ignoring him, I stride past a curious looking Rosalie and into the cottage.

"Try and keep it down, okay?" Emmett chortles after us, "Grandma is taking the guestroom and a light sleeper she gets real grumpy if--"

Edward slams the door forcefully behind him.

Warmth, all most too much of it, hits my frozen, tired body as we move past the living room. It's tinted in an orange hum of the fire, and distinct laughter and chatter – some voices recognizable, others not so much - demonstrate that spirits are high… or drunk.

"We need to talk, son."

I have one foot on the staircase and stop abruptly at the sound of Carlisle's voice.

He's standing at the entrance to the study and from the sordid expression on his face it's not hard to figure out what he needs to talk to Edward about.

Let's just say my sad noises, weren't exactly subtle.

Carlisle looks at me. "Everything okay, Bella?"

I nod vigorously, but don't let go of Edwards hand as he shifts.

Edward's eyes move to our entwined fingers, sensing my reluctance to let go, he doesn't move toward his father anymore.

He gets it.

I almost sigh in relief. I would hate to use sharp objects to get him to comply.

Carlisle's gaze follows Edward to our hands and then back up at us. He pauses and in that moment he reminds me so much of Edward its uncanny. I know there's more than a hundred thoughts going through his mind, yet to the untrained eye his expression is completely blank.

It's a tired sigh, "I can talk to you tomorrow if that's better."

"Would be good," Edward replies.

Carlisle clears his throat. "I trust you to do the right thing." He nods at himself and then walks past us into the living room.

I have no idea what he's talking about, but I fasten my pace lest he change his mind.

As soon as the door of my room closes Edward and I fling ourselves at each other like magnets that have finally let go.

There's a lot of tumbling, scratching and little moaning.

"Mmmm….what was that about?" I mumble as Edward jostles me against the door and presses small, repetitive kisses underneath my chin

"Hm, what?"

I pull his face away from my neck and to my lips. I'm on my tip-toes, and he's still needs to bend to reach me as I drop frenzied kisses and licks all over his mouth.

"The…Carlisle… trust… thing. "

"Ah," He winces when I kiss the bruise beneath his lip.

Then I'm flying because he picks me up, my feet barely grazing the carpet, lips still on mine, we fall on the bed.

"Like he trusts us to work our shit out?" I ask sitting up on my knees and straddling his chest, moving back to drop a kiss on his nose, and then each of his cheeks, "Or trusts us to say our midnight prayers?" I kiss his lips.

Edward chuckles in my mouth, he starts to sit up in between pecks, his palm lingering on the curve of my breasts on top of my hoody.

"Carlisle's big… on the double entendre stuff. He believes it makes us… think more." I lift my arms as Edward pulls the hoody off me and tosses it over his shoulder, "he probably just means 'I trust you to keep it wrapped.'"

"Why cant he just say 'keep it wrapped'?…oh" I close my eyes as he attacks my neck, pulling me toward him and easily tossing me over, so he's on top of me.

"Because he did all of that when I was fifteen," Edward mumbles, his breath burning fierily at the spot on my neck he loves so much.

His body is weighing me down against the bed, his movements frantic as his mouth covers my collar-bone and then my chest over my t-shirt, yet I know he's holding back from putting all his weight on me.

"Oh yeah…, I remember," I moan breathily, "Um, he really thinks we're that… _horny_? That we've come up here for one deal? That's silly."

I mean come on. It's not like Edward and I can't be in an enclosed space without jumping on each other.

Just because it hasn't happened, doesn't mean it's not possible.

Like people have swam the Atlantic Ocean, so surely it can be done, right?

"I know," Edward pants, thumbing my aroused nipple back and forth, "It's ridiculous"

He presses his mouth to the straining nub over my t-shirt and takes it into his mouth fully.

I gasp.

Shit, he's so warm, wet. Wonderful.

"I mean…. at least he trusts… Charlie would probably handcuff us…. uhh…. in separate rooms…oh _god_…"

"Mmm," Edward says distractedly, flicking his tongue around my aroused nipple in circular motions, before moving to the other one.

"Aaah," I whine in response and toss my head back, pushing him closer to my flesh.

Dying.

Really…. just… dying.

I can feel him straining against my thigh and I try and move down so that I can feel him against the part of me that wants him most. Dammit, why can't I be taller?

I wrap my legs around him and my inner thigh rubs at his hard dick once, then again. Edward jerks up, inhaling hard.

"Now?" his hot, rough breath on the wet patches of my shirt sends tiny shockwaves through my whole body.

I nod once, thinking it's quite gracious of him to ask this pertinent yet extremely rhetorical question.

"Now." I command (just so he knows).

I let my legs fall from around him and there's no hesitancy as lifts himself from my body slightly and reaches between us undoing two top buttons on his jeans.

My hands are on the hem of his dark blue boxers, visible through the unbuttoned v-shape, when there are three sharp raps on the door.

"Bella? Are you in here?" Alice voice resounds from the other side.

"Ignore it," Edward says like she's a ringing telephone or a singing parrot rather than a person.

He shoves my shirt half way up my stomach and snaps at the elastic of my pants impatiently.

I cock one eyebrow at him.

"S_omebody's_ all frustrated when getting a taste of their own medicine."

"Don't tease," He says tersely.

"Do I _ever_?"

"Only all the _damn_ time"

Giggling I stick my tongue out and Edward pecks the end of it.

More knocking.

"Bella, really. What are you doing? ….Is Edward back? Wait. Is he _with you_?"

I throw my head back in defeat. "Annnd let's welcome the host of Question Hour."

"Guys, come on, I'm _dying_ here!"

"And you're _killing_ me," Edwards jaw clenches in irritation and he rolls off me, "Let me handle it."

I nod and walk into the bathroom because Edward is the only person in the world that's more persistent than Alice when she's in persistent-mode, and well, I need to pee.

I go about my business and then accidentally look in the mirror and jump back from my reflection because I've come face to face with the walking dead version of me, on Acuphase. My eyes are still red- rimmed and unfocused and my hair, well, it's seen better days.

Oh, well, I guess my tits are always going to be my saving grace.

I'm not really one to believe in rose petals and silk linens but shit, I didn't expect to look like this during my first (or more like first and half) time with Edward.

Judging from the excited sounds coming from the bedroom Alice has already gotten her microphone out, so I drop my clothes and slide into the shower.

After I'm done, I wrap a towel around my body and walk back into the bedroom with a little skip in my step.

Oh.

Edward's on the bed, lying on his stomach, still wearing his jacket and shoes and… fast asleep.

At first it makes me smile because he used to sleep on his stomach when he was little, and I never knew he still did, and it's _so_ the cutest thing ever. Then I stop gushing over his cuteness and get a bit mad because he just fell _asleep. _

Really, who does that?

I'm tempted to jump on his back or bite his ear, but then I realise that he's probably not had any down-time for the last two days and that must suck. So I change into my t-shirt, crawl next to him and fall asleep too. I'm such a giving person.

****

My eyes flutter open and complete panic shoots through my body.

_Edward._

Then I remember he's back, and that we fell asleep together, but I can't reminisce too much because I'm too busy being suffocated.

"Um, Edward?"

I shove at the large arm that's managed to wrap itself around my neck unobligingly. He doesn't budge.

"Ed…_hey…_" I shove harder and without even fluttering an eyelid, he loosens his grip around me, his arm brushing past my breast and encircling my waist.

I can just about make the shape of his jawline as the first rays of dawn filter through my undrawn window.

He must have woken sometime during the night because we're both under the blanket and he's not wearing shoes or his jacket anymore.

I turn to my side and face him, watching his peaceful features and loving our proximity.

We still haven't managed to come together in the way that we want, and part of me feels like I'm about to internally combust, but somehow just laying with him, like this, feels more intimate than we've ever been.

It feels _right,_ you know?

There's still that panicky feeling, but surely waking up next to him more often can't be such a bad thing. I mean he's certainly not an eyesore or anything… and hell, at least I don't have to worry about Barbie shaped obstructions spoiling the fun anymore.

I smile dizzily.

Edward's unobstructed and mine, and when he wakes up I'm going to make him mine in a way that's both biblical and unholy.

With that blessed thought in mind, I drift back to a happy sleep.

***

_**December 24**__**th**_

"Oh goodness, Bella! Look at you, all grown up!"

I groan and clasp my hand over my ears to cover the most annoying noise I've ever heard.

"She's in here, Charlie!....with that sweet boy you showed me in those photos. Look at them laying together, all cute. He's grown up to be such handsome young man too. Such sweethearts!"

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up- _oh. my. god!_

My eyes fly open as I jolt up. At least try to, because Edward's got his hand on my face again.

"Mmh, Bell- _whaa-_?" Edward jerks away from me as I shove his arm hard. He follows me up, as I pull my shirt over my teddy bear panties. Admittedly not my sexiest pair of underwear, but I'm not sure where the rest went.

It's too late, because there stands Renee in her all pink attire and un-matching green earrings, smiling widely down at us, with Charlie following just behind her.

"Awww… " she coos happily like we're two playful puppies she's just adopted.

Edward has that perplexed look on his face. The one you do when you've just woken up and can't tell whether you're still in dream-land or not. He wishes.

Charlie freezes in the doorway.

Fuck.

"Hey, guys!" I wave pleasantly, thinking I need to start investing in longer, less see-through shirts.

Charlie of course looks uncomfortable.

Charlie always looks uncomfortable when he see's me - a fact that I've backed-up with my own theoretical research. Now, seeing me in bed with a boy makes Charlie pretty red in the face. But seeing me with Edward, makes Charlie _fume_. Its not the first time he's caught Edward and I in this type of situation…and lets just say he doesn't take kindly to it. At all.

"What's going on?" Charlie asks his voice is low, threatening.

Edward stops rubbing at his eyes and stiffens beside me.

"So how was the flight?" I say brightly, "Did you just get here? Nice earrings, Renee."

"Oh, thank you," Renee smiles pleased, "My daughter bought them for me for Christmas. How are you dear?" she asks making herself comfortable on the foot of the bed as Charlie stares Edward out, "I heard you started college? Is that going well? Did you get a ride from Alice and her man to the cottage? I've seen so many photos, I can't wait to meet everyone!"

"Hmm," I answer in response, staring between my long lost father and Edward, willing Edward to stop looking like a deer caught in headlights and _do something_.

He finally pulls himself together and slides off the bed. "Hello sir," he pushes his hand out in front of Charlie's blotchy face.

Hello _sir?_

Jesus. Someone's chicken-shit.

Charlie looks at Edwards hand like it's a rare and tropical fungi and I hope to God he left his bullets at home.

Giving up on me, Renee turns to Edward. "What about you, honey? Aren't you training to be a doctor? My brother's a doctor. It's really helpful for cuts and such. By the way you're a little unbuttoned, sweetheart."

Edward flinches and recoils sharply from Charlie, "I'm going to uh, go."

"Yes." Charlie says in his menacing father tone, as Edward squeezes past him and makes a run for the hills.

Complete and utter chicken-shit.

Charlie's eyes land on me.

I shrug. "So how ya been C-man? Long time."

"I am_ not_ okay with this, Bella."

I sigh.

So much for remaining sinful and obstruction free.

---------


	13. Chapter 12

_**Ack, sorry for the delay guys.**_

_**Christmas With the Cullens**_

_**Chapter 12**_

"Catch it! _Catch it!!!_ _CATCH_ the fucking ball, Swan!" Emmett screams at me in utter ferociousness like it's his newborn rather than a baseball that's hurtling toward me.

No pressure or anything, Em.

A thousand eyes follow the ball in frantic anticipation and everything is slow motion as I move backward, wondering why they always send me wide when Jaspers batting. The boy has the swing of an orangutan on speed.

And I just_ know_ the cheeky shit hits it toward me on purpose.

It's not so much that my spatial capabilities are busted, it's more like the ball lands so far away that I just don't get the chance to catch it y'know?

….apart from it's going to land in my damn lap.

Fuck.

"_Cccaaaattchhhh-ittttttt!!"_

Emmett's voice is a long vicious, echo and there's a blurb of movement and noise around me.

Jasper darting past first base.

Alice jumping up and down from pitcher position.

Edward speeding toward me.

Renee screeching

Somewhere in the distance, a baby crying.

I can do this.

I can do this.

I can do this.

_Almost…_

"Argh!" I move out of the way at the last minute and bang hard into Edwards chest.

"Easy!" Edward reels back at the force of our collision, arms coming out to protect me.

The ball lands next to my feet with a thud and then rolls past us.

"Home run," Rosalie says from her referee spot.

There's a loud "hooray" from the old people + Jasper team. (People still use "_hooray?")_

"FUCK!!" Emmett screams, making Esme wince and throwing the "Team Cullen" embroidered baseball cap, (courtesy of Alice's much too long mall visit with me in tow) to the ground.

Emmett can get really scary when we play baseball.

I smile sheepishly at Edward who shakes his head at me from beneath the bill of his cap, panting breathlessly with his hands on his knees.

"Thought you were gunna to give us a miracle and actually catch that one, Bella."

"It would've hurt!"

Edward nudges the bill of my cap further over my eyes and jogs past me picking up the baseball from behind us.

"No, there's a way to catch it. Like if it's coming from above, you've got to cup your hands slightly more, let it bounce," he explains it like I care, "but if it's coming from the front – look, stand further back, let me show you…"

Then before I can blink, he turns, profile to me, flexes both elegant and macho in a way that only he can manage, and let's go.

"This isn't fucking gym lesson," Emmett catches the ball with his left hand.

Thank God.

I was having a hard time figuring out if I should dodge to avoid to the East or the West.

Emmett stabs his finger at me.

"Rules, Bella. From now on, we follow them."

"Rules?"

Emmett was now prescribing _rules?_

Mr. Hyde and his baseball bat had clearly eaten him alive.

"Yes. Listen up," then he sprouts a list out like he's the fucking town minister, "First, you learn to catch, second no sulking when we put you on left field, third no walking off the pitch in the middle of the game just because you're getting hunger pangs, fourth you can't be on Edwards team all the time, fifth stop eye-screwing me my brother it's distract—"

"But I'm always on Edwards team!" I cry.

"_Hence _why I said you can't be on his team all the time."

"I _like_ being—"

"Yeah, and I like my wife's tits, do you see me attached to them 24/7? You do it like everyone else in the family does. You comply, you pick straws to be allocated and you smile bearably because you've got Rosalie's ma' on you team….sorry Rose, but it's true."

Mortified, I look at Edward.

Being on Edwards team was the done thing.

Emmett couldn't just_ decide_ things were going to change just because he was having his usual episode of baseball rage.

They always made exceptions for me… and I _liked_ it.

And maybe I _sometimes_ took advantage, and perhaps all Emmett was asking of me was compromise for the family game, but I won't.

Not at all.

No way.

…Not until he asks nicely at least.

I guess I owe them at least after all that they put up with from me.

"Lay off, Em," Edward says although he's just clearly amused. Sometimes I think he just keeps me around for the jokes.

I throw him an angered look, so he places his hand on the back of my neck and gently rubs the skin there.

It's just a friendly gesture on his part, but it takes my utmost effort to not melt into him and dissolve into nothingness.

I'm deprived, I really am.

Charlie clears his throat, from across the garden, and starts to walk toward us, "Bella, get back to your spot!"

Jesus.

He's being doing shit like this all day.

He even made Carlisle have "a talk" with Edward this morning. I mean what is that about?

I pretend not to hear him, but Edward lets his hands fall from around me, taking a step away from my body.

_Now,_ I'm pissed.

"Yeah, lay off," I growl at Emmett, even though I wish I was speaking to Charlie, "Its only a game, and I feel like you're _implying _stuff…like I'm a bad player or somethin'."

"I wouldn't use bad. Bad is a little understated, little one. You fit into a different category altogether, with never getting past first base and all."

"I have, too!" My voice comes out whinier then I anticipate, "I even got to third base before …and stop calling me little one, it makes me feel like an oompa loompa"

Emmett chuckles, "Third base my balls; with the amount of practice you've had, you should be hitting home run all the fucking_ time_."

Shaking his head he stalks off I wonder if his insinuation was intentional.

My eyes fall on Edward and I know the implications of Emmett's words aren't lost on him.

Does he feel like he's going to spontaneously combust too?

It sucks, especially if burial is your after death preference.

"Edward." I begin taking a step toward him as Emmett throws the ball toward Alice and the game commences.

"Charlie," Edward says, pointedly motioning behind me.

"So?" I say without looking.

Why did he have to be so damned rational, so _careful _all the time?

"Remember what Carlisle said," Edward says gently, like trying to placate me. "Don't make him uncomfortable. Keep him on your good side."

"Pah," I say turning to look at Charlie who's pretending not to peek at us from the corner of his eye. "So what, I'm not allowed to _look _at you, now?"

"Well… we could tell him," Edward offers, "We could tell him it's different this time. Maybe it'll put his mind at ease. Make him believe that I'm not just intent on getting in your pants."

"No," I say quickly, "I don't owe him anything. This is between us. It's _our_ issue whether you want in my pants or not."

He _better _fucking want in my pants.

"I mean it's nobody else's business, right?"

"Right…." Edward says, but he sounds unsure.

Before I can ask him why he sounds like he actually wants to spill all to Charlie, Emmett decides to scream pointedly at us.

"_POSITIONS, LITTLE FOOLS!!" _

"Chill out, asswipe," Edward mouths at Emmett, then briefly shoots me a soothing smile to try and reassure me.

It doesn't help.

He moves back to his fielding position in the garden, and with it wearing down the thin thread that's connected him to my heart.

Charlie visibly relaxes and I roll my eyes.

It's pathetic really.

It's like he's spending these few days he has with me compensating for all that over-protective father shit we haven't had together.

I have a revelation to make _Dear Daddy__,_ you're about three years too late.

I spend the rest of the game skulking in the shadows and pouting angrily at Edward.

Then Emmett throws another hissy fit because apparently Edward's "getting soft".

Then Edward and I spend the rest of the day avoiding Charlie, but it's hard, when he keeps conveniently popping up everywhere.

I mean if Edward and I decide to make out in the barn like horny teenagers, Charlie really shouldn't come in and glare disapprovingly, because despite how we might act, _we are_ consenting adults. But that's always been Charlies problem. Barely seeing me once a year, he's missed so much, that he's never grasped which level of this father-daughter relationship game we're at. I don't think we even have a level. Just complete awkwardness.

I try to avoid Alice too; because anytime I'm alone she pounces at me like some crazy papp and shoots out unnerving questions:

"Sooo….what's the progression?"

"Will you be meeting in Los Angeles?"

"How often?"

"Where is your first date going to be?"

"Has Edward told you he loves you?"

"How?"

"When?"

"Where?"

"When are you going to announce it?" (Really? there was an announcement to be made?)

"Have you… y'know, done it?"

Sheesh.

Next she's going to start asking details on how her brother performs in bed.

….Not that I would know.

Everyone else is isn't as obvious.

Apart from Emmett, of course. Although his innuendos become less clever when his bat is replaced by beer.

Yet there's this anticipation around us. Subtle suggestion, strange expectant looks, knowing smiles. It really _does_ feel like Edward and I are meant to announce our engagement or our impending pregnancy or something.

It's driving me around the bend.

I'm not really used to this much attention and there's really only so many times you can take a bathroom check, before they start to think there's something seriously wrong with you.

***

The clock strikes eight and I sit in the living room next to Charlie, scowling at the world, with my arms crossed tight over my chest.

Everyone sits around talking and laughing and trying to breath, and I guess this is what it feels like when the population of China has congregated in the living room.

Emmett's busy hooking up the Wii, Carlisle and Annabel have lain out a game of chess next to the raging fire and Edward sits next to Annabel, a lazy smile on his lips as he whispers moves to her.

Rosalie, her Mom and Grandma are in the corner talking about cots, Esme is mulling and fussing back and forth from the kitchen whilst Renee talks in her ear… and Alice and Jasper have disappeared to probably have hot, crazy sex upstairs. I hate them.

"I forgot the pepper," Esme says walking into the living room looking bewildered, "I forgot the pepper. And I need it for the turkey tomorrow. I can't believe I--"

"I got it, Mom," Edward volunteers, getting up from beside Annabel.

"Oh, Thank you, sweetheart. _Thank you_."

"No problem." Edwards eyes land on me and I jerk up.

Fucking finally. Time alone. " I'll get my coat."

"Oh no, I don't think that's a good idea."

Jesus Charlie. Tell me what you_ really_ think.

"I think it's a great idea," I say stubbornly and cut the distance toward Edward, "Edward, let's go."

"Bella, no."

The living room quiets.

Somebody clears their throat.

"Maybe you could take Alice, too," Carlisle tries to pacify.

Then it happens. I flip the hell out.

"What the hell is your problem?" I say to Charlie.

"I'm just not comfortable with this situation that you have --,"

I stalk outside, into the dining room and then through to the kitchen.

Charlie follows me and I turn to face him from against the counter.

"Really Bella, I've seen what that boy does to you. It hurts you. I've seen you cry because of him and I don't want it to happen again. I'm just trying to protect--."

I snort, "You have no idea what the deal is with my life or any real idea what's going on between Edward and I."

Charlie sighs, "Why are you getting so frustrated?"

He was really asking that? As if it wasn't stamped across my forehead already.

Edward walks in. "Bella, maybe we shouldn't—"

"Excuse us, young man." Charlie cuts him off,

Edward pauses and I grab his arm. "He's staying… Charlie you have to get off my back. I'm not _sixteen _anymore. Accept that. "

"Give your father a break, I'm trying to look out for you. In fact I'm not even sure if it's a good idea that you spend every single Christmas here anymore—"

_Is he serious?_

"You barely see me for three days each year and you're dictating what I can or cannot do?" The anger in my voice is evident.

"Bella."

"No, Charlie. It wasn't you who took me out to buy my first bra or looks after me when I have the flu, or tells me it's okay when I can't see the wood through the trees. You didn't help me move into college, and it wasn't_ you _that stood by me when I told Edward that I _love _him."

It had always been the Cullens.

"I don't blame you for that Charlie, because that is the way that we are, but please don't prevent me from having the one thing I _really_ want and expect me to not fight you or defy you. It _won't _happen."

I don't realise I'm crying until salt touches my lips.

Edward gently touches my arm.

Somehow without realising it I've moved forward, toward Edward.

I've let someone know that he's more than a physical need for me, and I'm ready to fight….not run away anymore.

A step. It's definitely a step closer to where I'm meant to be.

I hiccough.

Not caring that Charlie's there anymore Edward strokes my arm and kisses my forehead lovingly.

His thumbs caress circles on my wet cheeks. Trying to offer some type of comfort, he leans down and touches his warm lips against my salty ones letting them linger, but only for a second.

It's completely intimate and probably uncomfortable for him to watch, but Charlie doesn't say anything. Not even a squeak.

We all know it's not so much about Edward and I, it's about more than that.

There's so much stuff I want to say, like:

I'm sorry it pains you to see me even though I know you think about me a lot.

I'm sorry I remind you of Mom more and more everyday.

I'm sorry that we did what we do, and avoided this until it became too hard to bring up.

And I'm sorry for being so cruel and stubborn about all of this.

But it would sound inappropriate right now.

Instead I say, "I'm not in any mood to go buy pepper, Edward."

Leaving Charlie and Edward facing each other in the kitchen, I storm upstairs and into a random bedroom.

I punch the bed a couple of time because I feel terrible, but I'm still_ so_ angry too.

Then I realise I'm in Edwards old room. He's not used it this Christmas, but the bed sheets still smell of him, so I start at the edge of the bed and roll the duvet around me like a mummy, until I'm at the other end.

I can't move, my hands are stiff by my side and it's hot too, but I don't care because I'm still crying.

I'm not the best decision maker, but right then I decide with complete fervency that I'm going to live here forever. In Edward's old bedroom, in my mummy-cocoon of sadness.

That is until Edward walks in and unravels me.

He's much too good at that.

****

Sorry for turning this into snoreville, but I feel like many of Bella's behaviours and actions are characterized by her past, and in this case important to give a little insight into her relationship with Charlie. I hope it made some type of sense.

Oh and Renee is not Bellas mum, but charlies girlfriend. Sorry for the confusion… I should have called her something else. I'm just lazy and uncreative.

Thanks again to everyone for reading and reviewing, to new readers and those who I can't reply to because you aren't registered. I'm really glad you're still reading and kind of liking this… :)


	14. Chapter 13

So… you need to be an adult to read this.

**Christmas with the Cullens**

**Chapter 13**

Edward tugs at the edges of the duvet and I roll back to the side of the bed that I started from, and clamber into a sitting position, straightening out my haystack hair.

As intent as I was to become the ever-preserved duvet-mummy, I'm glad, because it was getting a little hard to breath in there.

The mattress moves behind me and his lips are fire and bliss on my skin as he drops the softest kiss between my shoulder and neck.

"Was I too harsh?" I mumble, swiping at my stained face.

Edwards mouth moves slightly from my neck in contemplation, his breath causing damp circles against my skin.

"I was too harsh," I moan. Didn't need wise school to figure that one out.

Then I can't help the loud, callous sobs that escape my lips. There's some snorting thrown in for emphasis too. Real classy and all.

I'm not even sure why I'm crying anymore….

So my father annoys the shit out of me. Boo-fucking-hoo.

That's not all though. I'm also a bitch of a daughter who likes to rub his inadequacies in his face.

I'm horrible, evil, mean and I _know_ it. Dude, it hurts to know _that_ shit about yourself.

Yet the fact that my closest blood relative, my own father, is asking me to keep away from the person who's got my heart, the person that I just _can't _keep away from… and has no damned idea about it… well, that kinda pinches too.

Just a little.

Not to make a song and dance but it's h-u-r-t-i-n-g and I'm sobbing and I'm glad that you always sound different to your own ears, because really, if I was someone else listening to me, I would have backed out a long time ago.

But not Edward. He's still here.

"Bella," he rubs at my neck, his thumb caressing my cheek, "Give it a little time. Then do what you need to. It'll untangle itself… just like we did."

"T-time," I repeat idiotically, "p-patience."

I remember Alice saying some similar thing not so long ago, and I briefly wonder if the whole family had been baptized in the reservoir of never-ending faith. I never had that.

"Yes. But despite that… despite whatever the outcome, you know that I'm here, Alice, Esme… everyone."

I nod.

I knew that only too well.

How could I have ever thought I didn't belong?

I belonged.

This was my place. I fit.

Not perfectly. A little untamed, marred and rough around the edges, yet somehow I managed piece myself in… and fit.

Turning around to face him, I look at the white bed-sheets and manage a smile through my tears.

I don't believe in him, but I thank God that there are people who show me perspective.

People I come to every Christmas.

"Bella, look at me."

I look at his face, into the depths of his concerned green eyes and somehow I'm being gently eased out of the stupor that I'm in.

He presses his thumbs against my falling tears, each one consecutively, like trying to sway their path before they reach my chin. "It's been an unreal Christmas for you hasn't it?"

"I guess," I say in between sniffles, "It's… been… uh, i-interesting."

He smiles, "understatement."

"Biggest fucking understatement. Ever."

He leans closer, replacing his mouth with his thumb, warming my cheeks, kissing each tear before it descends, taking them into his mouth and allowing them to become a part of him.

I close my eyes and settle into him.

It feels good.

Right.

It feels right that sometimes the separation between Edward and I just dissolves.

The lines that shape our physical bodies are only ephemeral in contrast to those moments when I really_ feel_ him. When we're connected, they blur, smudge, fade. Sometimes they don't even exist.

I feel him now.

I move my face so my wet lips brush his. Edward captures me easily, his heated mouth opening to let me in, and I try to swallow back from choking him with my sobs.

His hands are against each side of my forehead pulling me closer, our kiss becomes rougher, needy.

"Make love to me," I mumble against his mouth.

"Bella." He speaks softly, gently resting his forehead against mine.

"Edward." My hands pull at his hair so he looks at me. "Don't say no."

"Bella, you need to calm down first." He drops a kiss on my nose.

"I'm completely c-calm."

"Really?" he says pointedly, "because you're still crying."

Something inside me explodes.

"Fuck you," I spit, moving from him and clambering off the bed angrily.

Edward looks surprised, "Hey --"

"This is fucking absurd, E-Edward!" I say wiping at my face, "It's beyond absurd. It's like crazy, and stupid and absurd like I'd yell it from the roof-tops _ABSURD_!"

He looks confused, of course.

"I don't g-get it. Why can't you get over your do-good shit and fuck me? Why does it have to be all on your ground?"

Edward sighs and leans back on his elbows, moving his neck side to side like trying loosen a stiff muscle. Finally when he's done with the stringent regimen, he looks at me.

"Of course it doesn't, Bella. I just want you to be calm, okay? I don't want for us to do this because you want to bury your head on the sand, but because you _want_ to be with me."

"I _want_ to be with you. I _love_ you. In case you've forgotten, the confession was a pretty grand and public one… Why must you always make me feel like shit by making me beg? I _don't--_ I'm beginning to think you get off on it or something."

"What? It isn't like that. I just don't want you to_ hurt_ anymore."

"I'm not hurting. I'm _fine!"_

Edward slides off the bed "Look," he rationalises moving his hand toward me.

I slap it away.

He opens his mouth and then closes it again.

"Really, Bella? Is this how it is ? You want to take all your Charlie-related anger out on me?

I know my next words are harsh, but part of me just wants to throw it out there to sting him, just like it stings every time he rejects me.

"No Edward, I just want an answer. I want to know why you pretend with all this _love you forever _bull when you can't even make_ love _to me."

I notice the instant change in his posture. His arms cross over his chest and his jaw clenches.

"I feel like I don't deserve you, that you could do so much better … I_ can_ offer you this… I can offer it, but you're not willing to _take_ it."

"You serious?" He asks like I'm being utterly ridiculous.

"Why are you even _with_ me?!" I cry.

Edward half turns away from me. "This is stupid…" he says through clenched teeth, "this is just… _stupid_."

"Don't fucking brush me off, asshole, I'm tired of being brushed under the carpet."

He turns to look at me, snorts and shakes his head condescendingly. "Welcome to my world."

I hit him.

A hard punch on his bicep.

In a reflex-like action he grabs my wrist, and without looking at me slowly lowers it to my side, then moves his hand away from mine.

I stare at his lowered lids with pure rage building in my chest.

I guess he's right. This _is_ partly to do with Charlie, but hell, I'm also furious at Edward for both the right and wrong reasons. Questions, rejection, left-overs from our past still burn angrily in my chest and all this anger and frustration has got to come out somehow…. yet still there's something else.

I adore how loving, encouraging, accepting Edward is with me. It makes my heart melt and I'll always love him insanely for it.

Yet it's Edward's temper, his short fuse, the way his jaw clenches, the fire in his eyes, that moment when he snaps and loses control, that sends me into frenzy.

It's topsy-turvy, I know, but sometimes I prod him just so that he'll fall over the edge, so I can see him fire up, give up control.

Sometimes I just need him to lose it.

Unfortunately for Edward, today is one of those times.

And he's close. So close.

"Even if I _am _upset, why can't you just make me feel better?" I go on, relentless, "Why can't you just go with the flow for once in your life. Can't you just stop thinking and just _do_?_"_

"Someone's got to think in this relationship," Edward says heatedly, fisting his hand through his hair. "It's not going to be you, so do the math."

Anger builds inside me, sparking, smouldering, ready to explode.

"I'm beginning to think you don't even want me. That you don't even love-"

"_Listen_ to yourself, Bella!" Edward bellows, making me jump when his hand slams against the wardrobe.

"No, _you_, listen to me!" I move up threateningly in his face.

"I can't!" he yells, now giving as good as he's getting, "you're talking_ shit, _baby._"_

"You chose her!" I scream, moving back, truly burning with anger now, "You didn't choose me, you dated _her,_ you kissed her, you fucked her. I bet you even said you _love_—"

"Fuck!" he growls, grabbing my shirt and hauling my body close to his. His fingers graze my nipples through my thin shirt and I'm breathing much too hard.

I can see he is too.

His face is flushed and his pupils are a dilated, angry black. The same way he gets when I know he's just going to _have_ me. Or get close enough.

My heart is thudding crazily in my chest, only adding to my aroused, aching state.

"If you're trying to rile me up it's working, Bella." He continues to stare at his fisted hand between us and then says in a bare whisper that tingles through my entire core, "it _is_."

I try not to whimper.

I'm not sure of he just said that to threaten me, warn me, or turn me on, but _fuck _I'm turned on. I feel like I could have the best orgasm of my life and he's not even touching me.

He doesn't look at me.

I try and struggle out of his grasp.

He doesn't let go.

I count my breaths.

One…. Two…. Three….

Nope.

I pause.

"Asshole."

There's a bristling silence and Edward is still as a statue, his eyes fixed intently between us.

I move toward him, and my tits graze his fingers harder, "Jerk." I say softly. It's almost a moan.

He blinks.

I bring my mouth to his ear. I wonder how loud my out of control breathing must sound to him.

"Stupid non-pain--"

Before I can blink, he slams me against the wardrobe, and all I can think is _finally._

I'd finally managed to piss him off enough to make him want to _do me._

Thank God.

Hallelujah.

_Finally. _

His lips are rough, unyielding and I make a small noise, as the wardrobe door thuds bangs back and forth as we alternate between kissing and mauling each other.

He grabs the hem of my t-shirt, pulling it roughly off my body. The air on my sensitive, bare nipples makes me cry out loud but Edward cuts me off again with his hungry mouth.

"Edward, God, Edward…oh God, _yes__, _take it_,_" I moan into his mouth, as he cups both my tits with one hand, squeezing them roughly together. Sharp electric shoots up my bellybutton, making me heady with need.

His touch.

His lips.

His breathing.

His taste.

His sounds.

His _everything._

_Christ._

I rip at his shirt and Edward lifts his arms, temporarily moving from my lips and it's off.

Before I know it, shirts, pants, and underwear are strewn across the floor, I'm completely naked and utterly aware of it.

Edward not so much though. It's like some horned sex-beast has taken over, making him completely unaware of anything but my body and I can't say I don't like it.

Just to clarify: I like it. A lot.

We fall on the bed and he shoves me back, dropping unforgiving, unrelenting kisses all over my naked, writhing body.

I grab at his face to gain some type of eye contact, but my fingers slide through his messy hair instead. He moves to my collar bone, my breast, my belly button. Not even asking for permission this time, he shoves my knees apart so they're completely spread for him.

My fists grab the bed sheets either side of me as he kisses my inner thigh then softly, so it doesn't sate me in any way, takes a taste from my dripping center.

"Oh, _oh_, fuck." I arch and my hands flail trying to find him.

"Beautiful," he says grittily from between my legs.

Before I can pull at his hair and ram him closer so that I can ease some of this _insane _aching, he's snapped me closed, continuing to kiss all the way to my toes.

Tease.

Teasing, horned…_beast._

Roughly he turns me over so I'm on my knees and repeats. By the time he brushes my hair aside and licks my neck, I'm trembling all over. I'm shaking so much that I could be compared to someone having a fit and would _still_ probably be shaking more.

Small whimpers escape my lips as I continue to shake like amidst some terrible, yet amazing earthquake,and Edward's hot breaths molest me everywhere because he can't seem stop.

He's completely lost it, and I have the vague niggling feeling that if I hadn't egged him on so much he would be stopping to ask if I was going to be able to survive this.

His lifts himself from my hair, and I revel in his hardness against my ass and the warm and rough texture of his hand as it slides down my spine harshly.

"Mmph." I jump at the contact as he grabs my butt cheek.

"Edward, please…" I moan, moving forward on my elbows, shamelessly exposing myself, not caring that he's probably getting a good view of well, _everything._

Cursing something extremely un-Edward-like, he slides against my skin, closer to my throbbing centre, completely aroused and ready.

I bite my lip.

Take me. _Take me._

_Fuck me._

"Turn around, Bella."

Oh?

I do.

Then I'm lying beneath him, his legs either side of mine. I watch the way his toned stomach moves in and out with each breath, his dick somehow seems harder and more solid than I've ever seen it… and if he doesn't hurry this torture along I'm going to start crying with need. I really am.

He looks down at me.

There's no humor in his eyes, and suddenly I feel like tiny, vulnerable, caught prey that's preparing to be eaten alive. It's not as bad as it seems. I think I might enjoy it.

But then he leans over me and kisses me roughly, "I… fuck… I love you more than life. Don't you dare doubt it, ever."

I squeak. It's an odd noise to make at this moment, but that's exactly what it is. A squeak.

He leans on his elbows on top of me, and his hand reaches between us. His fingers find me easily, pressing and caressing my swollen nub and I never knew it was possible to be this sensitive to someone's touch.

I close my eyes and arch into him.

Jesus.

"Bella, you can't just _say_ stuff like that. I do. You don't know how much… I…" he trails off and sighs like it's all too much.

It _is_ too much. Overwhelming.

"I do…" I say squeaking some more, feeling bad at how harsh I was with him earlier, "I do…I know ….Edward, I love …you too."

I move forward and grab his neck to kiss him there, vaguely aware of how warm he is, and how_ good_ at this he is, and wow, is it really me making those noises?

Then his fingers are out. Edward makes this small grunt and his dick jerks against my stomach. His chest, slightly sheened with sweat rubs my nose as he reaches behind me.

I'm about to ask where the hell he thinks he's going, then he slides back down holding a condom he's retrieved from some hidey hole behind the headboard. I make note to check what else he keeps in there.

I watch in silence as he splits it open with his teeth and I vaguely recall high school Sex Ed and how they particularly cautioned us against doing that.

Then I remember something else I learnt too.

"Can I?" I ask hesitantly.

He nods and leans back and I sit up in front of him and take the condom from him. My hands are shaking so hard that I drop it, not once, but twice.

I fail at life.

Edward takes it from me and holds the tip and then lays his hands over my trembling fingers to fully roll it on to the hilt. He's probably doing it because he's getting impatient, but it's somehow thoughtful and incredibly erotic at the same time.

Then he's all geared up and there's only one direction to go. The direction he's pointed at.

He looks at me, beautiful, unfocused, tousled.

I stare back at him, breathing… and breathing hard. It sounds like I'm hyperventilating. Christ, _am_ I hyperventilating?

Shit.

_Just shit. _

"Bella?"

I nod because nothings about to come out of my mouth but weird breathing noises and strange squeaks.

Small, ravenous kisses as we lay back down, he leans against my neck and not gentle, but not too rough pushes into me.

I really try not to, but I can't help the shriek that comes from my mouth. At least it's not a squeak?

Edward freezes against my shoulder,

_Uh oh._

"You've got to be _kidding_ me."

******

I HAVE AN EXPLANATION.

I really do. Don't hate. So I started writing this chapter and it went on for over twenty pages. I cut it down, and it still went on. So I cut it down… you get the gist. So I decided to cut it into two. The next one is coming soon. I just need to make a few adjustments.

Patience is a virtue, make love not war etc… ( and they told me this medication worked… )


	15. Chapter 14

***laughs* you are hilarious. Your guesses were full of win. Unfortunately, you'll see I'm less imaginative. Glad most you took the last chapter pretty well. There was no swearing at me. I think. This one is rude. So read at your own caution. Mwahah.**

**Christmas With the Cullens**

**Chapter 14**

I bite my lip.

Why?

Why does he have to be so damned _perceptive_?

"Have you _ever _–"

I shake my head.

There are questions and terror written all over his face.

Shit.

I know exactly where this is going.

This is going down the Bella-equals-shitty-human-being, route.

I don't like this route.

Yet it always seemed to be a prominent part of my journey.

"So what? It was just with me, when I -- when we had sex for the first time?"

I manage a sheepish smile. I got caught.

"You didn't think to tell me?" Edward's eyes fire up.

I shake my head again.

Lost for words. That's a first.

…I guess I didn't.

Somehow, amidst all our angsty, nippy, foreplay, it just didn't occur to me to tell him.

"Jesus, Bella," he closes his eyes tight and I want to reach out to touch him, but then he moves up and I try not shriek again because my body hasn't adjusted.

All I can feel is Edward inside me, every tiny movement, filling me uncomfortably, stretching me out.

"I thought you knew," I cough out.

"This _again,_ Bella? I'm meant to read your mind?"

"I thought it was obvious!"

Edward grunts and I gasp.

"Christ." He looks horror-filled and starts to slide down my body, pulling out.

"No," I panic and grab at his neck, "Edward don't go, I'm _fine_."

I hold him firm, a tightening sense of déjà-vu somewhere in my gut.

This was definitely familiar.

"Bella, let go. I don't want to hurt you."

"I don't want it to be like our Christmas at sixteen, Edward, please _don't_ pull out."

Couldn't he understand that this is just what _happens._

I'd never had sex apart from that… mishap at sixteen where Edward took my virginity and then pulled out pretty much straight after. Of course it was going to hurt a _little._

His breaths are heavy against my neck and despite everything he's still completely hard and aroused.

"It won't be like that," he says finally, sounding like he's struggling to speak, "but I can't be inside you right now. Let me out. Please."

I undo my hands from around his neck and let him go, because his words sting right through my heart.

He doesn't want to be inside me.

Wow.

Not really on the top of the list of things a girl wants to hear.

He slides out and sits on his knees and I feel, well… empty.

"You hate me," I say sadly.

"I don't hate you," he answers quietly, "I just don't think we can do this right now."

"You're mad, then."

Edward raises an eyebrow. Duh.

"Don't be _mad, _Edward…not when we are… _were_ in this situation. You said you didn't want our problems to get in the way of us."

Edward looks like he's in awe. Though I get the feeling he's faking it. "You have this incredible way of using my words to your advantage." he says sarcastically.

"I'm talented like that, I guess."

"Completely."

Silence.

Further discomfort.

Time to buy a spade.

"So? Will you stop being mad?"

"Yes."

I pause.

He's not making eye contact. I _hate _when he does that.

"When?"

"Give me time. I need... I need to cool off."

Looking everywhere else but at me, he moves off the bed, chucks the condom, cleans himself up and then and picks up his jeans which are strewn to my right, next to the window.

I feel a large lump in my throat as he starts to pull them on. _Still _not looking at me.

Don't cry…. _Don't fucking cry, _dammit.

Here you have it ladies and gentlemen: rejection at its worst.

Finally managing to seduce/ terrorize your man into bed and he pulls out and runs away. Can't really get more ego-injuring than that.

I can't bear this.

I can't even look at him.

I can't bear to contemplate his stand-offish impression, his dying erection visible as a bump in his jeans and how he _still _manages to tease me with his crazy, ruffled hair and low-slung jeans, by simply just standing _fuming _and looking like _that._

My eyes jerk up from the V shape that disappears into the jeans that he hasn't bothered to button up, and he's looking straight at me.

"Well, this isn't the mother of all awkward at _all,_" I mumble, my hands clasping over my chest and looking around for something, _anything_ to cover myself.

If he's getting all dressed and ready to flee, there's no way I'm going to sit here all stupid, naked and vulnerable. And stupid.

Completely stupid.

Stupidly stupid

Just stup--

"Here." On his walk back to me, Edward picks up the shirt that I'd ripped off him during my throes of violent passion, earlier.

Still distractingly unbuttoned, he puts one knee on the bed, towering over me, forces it over my head.

Irately, I shove at his hands so they fall from his shirt and put my own hands through the sleeves instead. Then I toss my head victoriously.

Edward sighs.

He leans over me, and tugs at a stray hair that's made its way to middle of my forehead, "Bell –"

I slap at his fingers, feeling completely bruised. "Stop. _Touching_."

The mattress moves as he falls on the middle of the bed, across from me and tiredly cups his stubbly face in his palm.

I'm so angry that I just want to bite him. Hard. But then his scent hits me through his t-shirt and I'm overwhelmed by gloom and doom.

Is it even possible to get yourself into a _predicament_ this many times?

We should get a prize…surely we must have surpassed world records or something.

"Are you breaking up with me?" It's a raw whisper.

"I… _no… _of course not," He looks taken aback that I would ask him such a question. "I'm just angry…hell, not even angry….Sad, upset. After everything we talked about, you couldn't just communicate? You couldn't have the courtesy to tell me the first time we…" he trails off despondently, "Why couldn't you just _tell me_, Bella?"

"God," I run my hand through my hair tensely, "I don't know, Edward. I forgot."

He studies me. I wish he'd button up.

"You promised you would _try_."

"I did. I _will,_ I just don't get-- why does it _even_ matter if I've had sex after our thing at sixteen or not? It's not a big deal."

"Because! It matters, okay? It matters to me!"

He's getting frustrated.

"Jeez, Edward!" I sit up on my knees. "Now I have to put everything past you?"

"_No!" _he says frustrated, "I _never_ said that, Bella. You don't need to tell me everything. I just don't want us to go through what we did before… you're not used to this…your body isn't used to it… I could've hurt you, a lot. Don't you get that?"

"You didn't," I reassure.

"That's not the point!" he grits, "You said you didn't want for us to go through what we did at sixteen but you don't take any steps to prevent it. I don't understand how you can't know how _much_ it matters, Bella. It scares the shit outta me that we might relapse back to being _that_ way. That I might hurt you, that something might occur where we don't talk again. Why don't you get that into your stupid head?"

Stupid head.

_Am _I being a stupid head?

God, I don't even know anymore.

"I don't want that to happen," I admit.

It scared the shit out of me too.

I can't let us get into _that _situation again.

I don't _want_ to be a stupid head.

"Then give in to me," he says softly, he reaches across and he places his middle finger on top of the nail of my middle finger, pressing it into the mattress gently.

"I always give into you," I say staring at his finger, and then sliding out from beneath him and placing my whole hand on top of his, "its always _you_ that has the problem giving in."

"Not physically, I'm not talking about sex."

I bite my lip and look up at him.

"So if I give in _emotionally,_ or whatever, you'll give in physically?"

Edward leans closer to me and in counteraction; I slide up the bed closer too. There's barely any physical distance between us now. "I was willing wasn't I? We were just about to –"

"That's because I _forced_ you. Otherwise you wouldn't have, Edward. I _know_ you wouldn't have."

"What makes you so sure? I want you too, Bella. I want this too. I jeez, I think about this… _us_ so much that none of it makes any sense…. I don't want sex to be something that happens between us and makes us worse off. I don't want to use it to forget our issues. I want it to happen because we need to love each other... not because of anything else."

What he's said is obvious, but somehow it reassures me. Makes me feel a tiny bit warmer. He _did_ want me. It wasn't outright rejection.

…but why is he making it so _difficult?_

Getting naked and pelvic shouldn't be _this_ hard.

"I need to love you, Edward, it's just… you make it so hard when you pull away because everything's not _right_. All of that other stuff… you can't control it. I mean, we're not going to be perfect all the time!"

"I know that."

I shake my head. "I don't think you do. I think you want us… you want _it_ to be perfect and that's not going to be happen. Everything in life is flawed, messy, tainted, imperfect….. I can't live up to perfection… and if that's what you want, we might as well wear purity rings and sign a forever celibate agreement."

Perfection doesn't exist.

Does he not know that?

And I'm only kidding about the purity rings.

I don't like the feel of sterling silver or plastic, personally, and I have this irrational dislike for the Jo bros.

Then because I'm on a roll and Edward seems somewhat interested in what I have to say, I go on.

"About the communicating issue, well, some things aren't black and white, okay? Other things are left better unsaid and there's a whole 'nother category of things that sound futile until they're actions rather than words."

"Have you actually been thinking about this, or just watching too much Oprah?"

"Neither. I think it's a backlash of spending too many hours with Jasper."

He smiles a little and then when I finally think he's going to cheer-up, he sighs and moves his hand from me.

"Look, I'm not getting all deep and intricate here. I know there are some things that can't be put into words….I _know_ that, but I'm not talking about those. I want you to open your mouth and tell me the obvious things. Like that at sixteen you were a virgin. That it might hurt because you've never_ really_ had sex. That you want me to cut-out my moody bullshit ….I might not be able to understand you…. _hell,_ I can barely _ever _understand you, but don't try to hide it and don't keep it inside until it blows out of proportion."

I stare at him, upset that he moved his hand away. Why did he do that?

"I hope this isn't beyond you, Bella."

"It isn't," I say stiffly. "I can do that."

I'd try. I really would.

I hope that'd be enough.

If it wasn't… it'd really suck. Bad.

"Good." He leans forward, kisses my forehead and then gets up.

"Where are you going?"

"Give me ten minutes."

"Oh… alright" I guess.

I watch the way the bottom of his jeans trails around his ankles and the muscles of his back flex as he walks out, still shirtless and unbuttoned.

Even though he's not told me where he's going, and I'm left in this weird land of limbo that I hate so much-- I'm a little afraid he might bump into Charlie in his half-naked, half- aroused state, and it irks me a huge amount that he might have gone to have a smoke without me (grrr)-- I know that he'll be back…. And that when he's back, he'll be calmer and nicer… and perhaps even buttoned up.

With that thought in mind, I fall back on the bed and tally out if it's really me or Edward that's stupider.

***

My eyes flutter open and the first thing I notice is the warmth of Edwards hand on my stomach beneath my shirt.

How long was I asleep?

I shuffle a little, but Edward holds me tight to his body, his voice is muffled against my hair when he speaks.

"I'm with you because you're you and you're not afraid to be you. You're_ you_ with such intense passion that it astounds, awes me…. Kinda like wildfire… fierce, untamed, beautiful. Burning in every direction, embracing and sweeping up everything that comes your way. Taking it for what it is, never turning back…and, yes, sometimes you burn too hot, and sometimes you get burned too, yet despite that, you never burn out…. you never, _ever_ burn out, Bella, and that amazes."

Something gathers and lumps up in my throat.

During our argument, I'd asked him why he was with me.

He's telling me why.

I just didn't expect it to sound so…beautiful.

"With me, things are… were always planned and tested, thought out. But you come along every Christmas… and logic doesn't mean _anything._ You defy everything that makes any real sense to me. I become this moody, broody asshole that can only think about you…and sometimes I think I can fight you, and other times…God, other times I think that all I can _really _do is follow you and hope that one day you might relent, but even if you don't, I'll still follow you…. always."

I throw my head back on his shoulder so I can see his face. I can make out the gold around his iris through the dim lighting of the lamp…. and I realise I'm crying.

He made me cry.

Really, who does that?

He needs to stop.

Right now.

His voice rumbles in my ear and his breath is hot against my cheek as he continues.

"You said some stuff can't be put into words. This is one of them… like I could never put what you are to me in words…not real words that mean anything--"

I kiss him.

I bring my arm to the back of his head, and pull his hair closer. He must have showered because it's damp and his mouth is wet, wonderful.

"That meant everything." I smile. And I mean it. "And_ I_ love you because you're better than me."

There. Simple.

"No, Bella. I'm not."

"Yes, you are. _The_ best."

He chuckles, knowing when to give up.

Gently his fingers creep up my stomach, and caress my left breast.

I close my eyes and soften into the curve of his body.

"Do you… are you ready to try again?" His voice is a low whisper in my ear.

"Really?" I ask, already breathless, "After everything, you still want to?"

"I do," he says thumbing my nipple, "I want to, but only if you do."

"I do," I say, overwhelmed with emotion, "I always do."

Then his hand moves back, he leans away and he's holding something in front of my face.

"Oh my god!" I jerk up violently at the sight of the green candy in his hand. "Where'd you get that?"

"That'd be telling." He follows me up and watches me unwrap the mint-choco-éclair like a four year old unwrapping a Christmas present. They really used to be so much more exciting back then.

"Don't expect me to share."

"I fully appreciate that you won't," he muses in complete seriousness,

I break it in half and put it in my mouth. Edward doesn't even lick his lips. Now _that_ is what I call immense self-control.

"You were right. A lot of the time I was holding back because I was afraid of it not being the way I wanted it to be."

"You were right too," I admit with a full mouth, "I was much too upset to blackmail you into having sex with me. I can be an evil monster sometimes… I know I can, though I think it might just be flawed DNA or something."

"Hmm."

"This is where you disagree." I lick the creamy residue from my lips. "At least about the evil monster part."

"Well, I can be a self-righteous fucking control freak, so it balances out."

"Stop cursing and souring up that sweet, beautiful mouth," I giggle.

Then because I'm feeling generous I sweeten him up some more by putting my half eaten mint-choco-éclair into his mouth.

Because Edward would rather deny life than mint-choco-éclair, he takes it without question, kinda like he takes me.

***

"_Oh_ God, Edward..._God_."

"Is it hurting?"

His voice comes out in small pants against my ear.

"No."

Not anymore.

It's like being on some cool, drool-worthy (Edward's naked) orgasm inducing (at least I hope so) ride. My body is so tightly gripped around him that it slides up the bed with him and then back down as he moves inside me.

I bet they don't make 'em like this at the fairground anymore.

The friction is incredible too. Every ounce of concentration, focus centred on trying not to sob out loud at every tiny, movement he makes.

"Good," he mumbles, now in my neck, "You feel good, Bella, fuck…amazing."

Only if I could put into words how _he_ feels.

My nails dig into his back, my heart clenching at this point we've finally reached.

This strange feeling of finality and of new hope. Like the ending of the beginning, something that's been the source of so much chaos and confusion, yet somehow I knew we'd work around finally.

He moves up, pressing my hip against the bed starting to thrust in slow, restrained movements. I know it's taking utmost effort on his part to not take it at a faster pace, but it's Edward and he's so sweet like that, you know?

"Um…Edward….before…how did you uh, know?"

"You felt too tight," he says, looking all restrained and tensed, "just like you… were the first time."

He still remembered _that_?

Perhaps the excessive use of sumthin' sumthin' does eff up the memory function, because all _I _remember during our sexy time at sixteen was fumbling, crying and interesting use of curse words.

But then again, I did all of that an hour ago, too.

His left hand is holding me against the bed and as the soon as the rhythm gets easier, it moves all over, brushing the side of my breast, grasping at my ass, tracing the curve of my hip bone. I revel in it.

Eroticism and a half.

Being felt up by Edward never gets old.

"Ah," I dig into his skin as he hits a sensitive spot, wrapping my arms around his neck, my tits brushing his chest as he eases in and out.

It's tender and it's easy, like I knew it would be. Maybe I should have told him not to be such a worry wart a long time ago.

"God, Bella…did I mention …you feel fantastic? You do…. I love that you've been waiting for me, you don't know how much… of a turn on that is."

"Who said…. I was waiting for you, Romeo? Nobody else came along… that I was interested in."

It's only a half truth. Nobody else could have compared really. Gay or otherwise, I never gave them a chance. I only ever wanted him.

"You know how… to flatten an ego too."

"And I like my clothes… creased."

"_What_?" he stops suddenly, laughing, his forehead against mine is fevered.

"Mmm," I revel in the vibrations that come from his chest and tingle through my entire body. I can feel him _everywhere._ I decide right then that I'm never going to let him pull out of me again. Ever.

Leaning back, I caress his back, tracing the intricate details of his spine, then place one leg around him and wiggle, urging him to keep going. No time for trivialities like laughter.

"Bella…" he groans, lips sucking at the skin of my neck, right beneath my chin.

"Remember… you to told me to tell you everything?"

"I never said tell me _everything… _I said—"

"Whatever, but I gotta…. tell you something now. "

He jerks up from my forehead and looks at me half curious and, like always, half suspicious.

I grasp his face. "You go can go harder, faster, Edward…I'm ready."

He closes his eyes, and for a second I think he's going to make up an excuse to deny me again.

"God, I thought you never going to _ask_."

***

"Uhhh…" I struggle to keep eye contact as his eyes hold mine, his deep, hard lunges taking me to places I never knew existed. My body moves back to the headboard, hands grasping roughly, stomach in knots, building, building.

His hair is stuck out in random directions, rivulets of sweat slide down his back. His whispered curses send my stomach into a tighter frenzy. Tighter.

"Bella, …. yes," he groans, as I lift my hips to meet his movements, to take him further inside me.

His brow is furrowed and I love that he's concentrating so hard on me. I love the way he fills me up. My body changing, compromising for him as he slams into me, thrust after delicious thrust.

I feel a primal urgent need to meet, to reach that final finish that we're racing toward. Normally I suck at the physical race, but the look on Edwards face tells me I'm not so bad at this one.

In fact I might be kinda good?

I'd make time to pat myself on the back, but i'm a tad occupied now.

"Harder," I demand, clawing at his back, desperately trying to pull him closer, deeper inside me so those lines completely blur, so I can't tell where I end and he begins.

Simply, he obliges, wearing me away, like he's making up for all that he denied me earlier.

My eyes rolls back into my head as I try to repress the little shrieks escaping my mouth.

Suddenly like the parting of the Red Sea, a revelation is made.

_This_ clearly trumps any type of buzz that I get from the Great green stuff.

Much better.

Incredible.

"Oh…oh… Yes! Edward… _YES!"_ I 'm crying now, sweat, creaking bedsprings, fingers flailing to his face, touching his puffy lips, pulling at his ears.

Just everywhere.

You want to know the most erotic thing?

It's not his rough hands squeezing, mauling my body, or not the friction of him pounding into me.

His eyes.

The way they reach mine, the way they dance across my body, eating me up like being revived from some mint-choco -éclair related deprivation.

Like somehow all of this isn't enough.

It isn't.

I'd never be able to love him enough either.

"Shit, , Bella…_Bella._" He says my name in a desperate melody in tempo with his movements. His beautiful face contorting, fighting not to give in.

I've seen that expression before. Too many times. He's close.

Much closer than I am.

"Edward…. It's okay, let go," I encourage, feeling myself becoming more wet, aroused, the closer he gets. His face gets me every single time. But this time, he's inside me, and incomparable excitement curves my spine.

Yes.

Do it.

"Not yet," he grits.

"Whahh?" I can barely hear him above my moans and I try to lower my tone, lest somebody on the outside get overly concerned.

"_Notyet_. You first."

"No, you're closer…uh come… _comeforme_…."

Utter, unparalleled concentration on his features, he shakes his head.

Nope

Holding on.

_Jeez_, Edward.

Don't be a baby.

_Give. It. Up._

"It's nothing… against you…Oh…God! I mean your technique is… great I unh…. it's so much better than sixteen... ah, I think it's just that we've had practice with fingers ah… and not…not having sex… so it's more difficult for me to come.. I ah…mean…_oh!_"

"Shut up." I'm not sure if he's concentrating more on not laughing or not coming.

Or maybe not doing both at the same time.

He adjusts his body and grabs my right leg, wrapping it tighter around him, moving up closer on one arm, slamming harder against my womb.

"Oh_Gawwhd!" _A noise from somewhere deep inside my chest.

Is that really me?

I throw my head back, overpowered by the thousand different sensations grabbing at me. I'm not sure which one to attend to.

The savageness of our movements, the noise of slamming bodies, the heated flush burning my face.

Somehow it's all too much, but not enough.

He knows this too.

Then Edward proves that despite being the most beautiful, caring person in the world, he's also a persistent jerk.

His fingers reach between us, frantically teasing, pressing coaxing.

Nope.

Not happening before him.

"Edward you gotta—"

_Oh._

Fuck.

Now.

I clamp hard around his dick, probably too hard, writhing, shuddering, overwhelmed.

"Bella…"

His weight holds me down as he falls on top, following me over, "Bella…Bella…baby…" he bites my neck, continuing to thrust and come inside me, my name on his tongue completing him.

***

So much I never knew.

It's like a new discovery, a journey, there's so much I never knew about Edward. His mind, his body… his life.

There's so much I never knew about this phenomenon called pillow talk. Why vote for this pointless, girly rubbish when you can just fall asleep?

Yet here we are, bodies glowing in the hazy light of the lamp, pillows and blankets scattered around us, we've been talking for around an hour straight.

He tells me about all his friends at college. He lists random, faceless people he wants me to meet when we get back to LA- I only remember three, though.

Some guy called Jacob-- because Edward seems to have some love-hate rivalry situation going on with him and it makes me curious, a girl called Angela who he seems pretty fond of and I don't think I like it, and some person called Yorkie because it's well, the name of a chocolate bar.

I tell him a little about what he's missed too. I tell him that if he came into my dorm room he would most likely find my passed out room-mate, and scraps of paper everywhere.

I tell him about this script I'm working on. It's this coming of age thingy about a young girl in ancient Greece who gets transported to our day and how she copes with life, trivialities and eventually finds love.

He tells me he can't wait to read it and somehow it makes sense that he would be the first person I ever shared it with (reading it to an unconscious Jessica doesn't count).

He opens up tentatively about Tanya and I talk a little about Charlie, but it's not the most comfortable topic to bring up whilst naked, so we move on.

We talk some more, but not about anything in particular. There's teasing, I threaten him a lot and he laughs at me a lot.

He plays connect-the-dots with the freckles on my body.

I never knew he had it memorized it so well.

"You have no scars," he announces, like he's solved some big mystery.

"Nope," I watch his fingers move under the curve of my breasts and hesitate, before travelling again.

"How come you're the most accident prone person I know, yet you have no scars?"

"I don't know, I was hoping there was a medical explanation for it," I tease.

"There is," he says distractedly, his fingers are on my shoulders now, tracing invisible, tender lines, "it's called flawless."

I blush wildly.

"_Stop it_."

Stop trying to _charm._

Though I'd be lying if I said that he didn't.

We allow ourselves to join again, but this time it's comfortable, tender. Confessions, apologies.

Yeah, tell me about it.

It's crazy, crazy stuff, but you know, I feel like I can really get used to this. My body's already shaped by him. I never knew it would be so easy to be carved, to just _fit_ like this.

We're quieter too because somewhere in the middle of our session doors close and lights go off as others get ready for bed. Nobody disturbs us.

"Amazing," Edward says panting against my sticky, hot body. "Just…_amazing_."

"I agree," I can barely hearing myself over the rough pounding of my heart. "We _are_ amazing. Let's do it again."

"Baby, you got to give me some time to recover," he laughs.

"How much time?" I ask playing with the damp strands of hair on his neck.

"A minute."

"Oh, okay."

Edward slides out of me and I want to cry at the loss of contact, but somehow I restrain myself. He rolls the condom off, and chucks it inside the wrapper and into the nearby waste basket.

"You're timing aren't you?"

"No," I say, counting twenty seconds in my head

"Hey. Look at the time."

"Twenty seven seconds." I say resting my head on his chest, when he comes back to me.

"Its midnight. It's Christmas."

"Oh _joy."_

Ignoring my sarcasm, he presses his mouth to mine.

I grab at his hair bringing him closer.

How am I ever going be sated?

Seriously. I need to know.

Like would it be classified as a_ condition_ if all I did for the rest of my life was to stay in bed and make love noises forever and ever?

He pulls at me, so I'm on top of him.

"Merry Christmas, Bella, I hope you get everything you wish for"

I can already feel him semi- hard against my thigh. Not exactly a minute, but not bad either.

"I think I already might have it." I know he can feel me smile into his mouth.

"You too, huh?"

I never knew this feeling of completion, of untainted affection.

I guess it's time to finally discover again.

***

Yes, it's ending soon. Though I couldn't really end a fic with this title without having a Christmas day. So, hold on for me. Ah... man I'm going to miss writing these crazy characters.


	16. Chapter 15

Sorry guys, I got a bit caught up IRL. Moved apartment, city and job (ack)…but back to give you the final chapter. So here it is.

**Christmas With the Cullens**

**Chapter 15**

Ruckus.

It's everywhere.

Definitely Christmas morning, alright.

Esme's stressing about whether the turkey should be allowed to sit for another fifteen minutes.

Annabel has turned up the volume on morning TV so high that it's reverberating through the entire cottage.

Charlie's having a hard time not tripping over people as he walks back and forth from his Range Rover, each time bringing back something else essential to Renee's Christmas regimen.

Emmett is screaming at Alice through the bathroom door because Rosalie needs to pee. Again.

The newest Cullen addition (nope, nobody has given birth. I'm talking about Carlisle's present to Esme) - a cute golden Labrador, claimed to be the cure to her "empty nest syndrome" - has taken a real liking to running through the gap between my legs.

Oh, and apparently Jasper and Grandma are kindred spirits. They've been in intense discussion at the dining table for the last three hours, ignoring the world and blocking our view of the tasty looking truffle. Though what they could possibly have in common is beyond me. A love for vintage cigars?

The chaos has meant that everybody has been pretty subtle about Edward and I. That is, apart from Emmett, who was born without a subtle bone in his body. And Alice, who keeps smiling at me in a way that makes me positive that she's already plotted the colour scheme of our childrens' nurserys.

I spend most of my morning being extremely helpful by keeping out of everybody's way whilst trying not to stare at Edward and reminisce too hard about last night. Or this morning in the shower.

Yeah.

…Give me a minute.

Mmmm.

Oh!

(It's Edward).

He's caught me ogling again. And does he really need to raise his eyebrow like _that?_

Jeez, my panties are gooey already.

I'm blushing.

I'm smiling.

I'm staring….

….. like a love-sick loon.

Gah. I need a distraction.

Which is provided quite easily when I have my "talk" with Charlie.

It's awkward as hell.

But really what did I expect?

It goes a little like this:

"Bella -"

"Charlie - "

Silence.

"Look." (In unison)

Silence.

"You go first."

"No, you."

"I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. I was rude and really I… I shouldn't have exploded like that."

"You had a right to."

"Did I?"

"What you do, I guess, is your own business, Bella. Like you said I wasn't here. I wasn't here when you--"

"No, Charlie. I was too harsh, I was...but you have to understand about Edward and I. It's..."

"I understand."

There.

Somehow that made all the difference in the world.

Then because I'm not entirely sure what else to say – I apologise again. He apologises. I tell him some more about Edward and where we are now. This is promptly followed by an awkward hug which results in Charlie becoming redder than a beetroot.

Yeah, you get the picture.

Awkward.

It's okay though.

I mean, I don't expect things with Charlie to be full of wonderful, and he might not be that a perfect paternal figure and maybe he doesn't see very much of the daughter he wants in me ….or perhaps too much of Mom…but either way we're acknowledging our differences.

Acknowledgement. It's a start, right?

He even mumbles something about me being all grown up and reaches to ruffle my hair as we walk out of the study. That is until I kind of jump the wrong way, he snatches his hand away too fast, banging it into Carlisle's cabinet and causing a nice blue bruise on his thumb.

I'm on my way to a clean, hard death from embarrassment, when I notice an identical bruise on my thumb and somehow that is the funniest thing we'd both seen in a long time.

I even think I see him throw a small, slightly uncomfortable smile at Edward before he leaves to spend the rest of Christmas with Renee's family.

Right now though, I'm very busy rifling through torn, coloured Christmas paper, leaning into an entertained Edward, as he watches Emmett chase our yet-to-be-named addition behind the couch.

As usual, I'm the last one left here. Though, if I'm honest I secretly, kinda, do it on purpose.

It's not like you get to unwrap Christmas presents everyday, you know?

Having all the presents lain around me makes me feel rich in a way I barely ever feel.

This year I have a mini pink and purple hookah from Alice and Jasper, essential oils and an "idiots guide to baseball" from Emmett and Rosalie, coupons and a purple dinosaur from Charlie, a red sweater from Grandma, and a photo album from Carlisle and Esme that makes me weepy like a two year old. There's one present I can't find, though.

I'm getting tired and a teensy bit angsty looking for it too.

"Everything okay?" Edward says from behind me.

"Hmm," I say grouchily, but then kind of forget as he leans in and drops a small kiss at the corner of my mouth.

"To your left, Bella."

"Oh." How could I have missed it?

Throwing a curious glance at Edward, I rip open the thin brown packet, peek inside and pull out two tickets to Paris.

Edward is taking me to Paris.

Wait. Edward's taking me to Paris?

_Oh my God_. ... We. Are. Going. To. Paris.

"You're taking me to Paris!"

"Yep." He smiles. "Paris."

"We're going to Paris," I repeat slowly and disbelievingly.

He nods, patiently.

"_Paris_." And because I'm starting to doubt whether I'm ever going to get any other sentence out of my mouth, I say, "Home of mint-choco-eclairs!"

Edward looks amused. "Uh huh, our first stop, no doubt."

"Oh, I…I love you, I love you, _I love you_!" I grab him and kiss him, not caring I'm pretty much mounting him in front of the entire living room.

But shit, who the hell cares? I'm sure they've seen it all before and ones that haven't can take it as an educational lesson – because I'm going to mint-choco-éclair heaven with Edward by my side. I think I might just burst from happiness.

He laughs, holding me up on his lap. "That's quite a confession coming from you."

"And hey you didn't even walk out this time."

"Touché, Swan."

"You had that coming, Cullen," I giggle, "This is like my dream. I've always wanted to go France. I … just look at me, I don't think I've ever been this enthusiastic about anything in my life!"

"You're right. You haven't."

I punch him playfully on the arm.

"So was this planned all along? There are two tickets."

"Well, I planned this before the holidays thinking you could take someone with you because as much fun as France is, travelling is always better with company."

"Right you are."

"Though now, I'm hoping it'll be me."

"Convince me," I say running my finger over his lips, "and I may invite you."

"Hmm," he pauses in mock thought, rubbing tiny circles at the bottom of my spine, "We can play doctor--doctor in the sea view room at La Perouse when we get to Nice."

"Nice too?!" I cry.

"Nice too," Edward says nuzzling my neck and I drop my face into his hair.

God. He smells so good.

"Now I feel really bad for getting you that stethoscope for Christmas."

What?

Don't judge me.

So Edward is just really hard to buy for, okay?… and well, a stethoscope seemed like a practical solution rather than one that made me look like "a big, kinky perv" as Emmett hadn't refrained from pointing out.

"I'll forgive you if you let me give you a check up tonight."

"Come to think of it, I was feeling a little poorly."

"Oh yeah?" Edward teases, his eyes lighting up.

I roll my eyes.

"God, you're such a _guy_."

"Last time I checked."

My hair covers my face as I lean down to press my lips against his.

"Not just any guy. You're _my _guy."

Edward mumbles something against my mouth, and suddenly everything is so easy. I can't even recall what had been so complicated about this before.

We're really getting into our make-out session beneath the Christmas tree, when I'm disturbed by a flashing light that is close to give me an epileptic fit and sending me off for a real-life check-up.

"What are you doing?" I cry throwing hands over my eyes

It's Alice with her new zoom lens. I guess this is Jaspers idea of demonstrating that there other ways to create art than accessorising with new blahniks. But sheesh, ever heard of a paint-set, Jasper? At least we wouldn't be suffering from temporary blindness.

"It's photo time," she says moving closer, with this scary, Alice mirth in her eyes.

"No, it's not!" I bury my face into Edwards neck.

More flashing.

"Wait, don't move, can you guys hug? A little closer. Look happier? It's Christmas, why don't you smile?… come on! It's not so hard! No, don't push him away! Bella!"

"Alice, stop," Edward laughs.

"Go away," I growl.

I want to complain some more. I really do.

But you know, Edwards laughter is almost as infectious as Alice's enthusiasm– so after a couple of glasses of wine, I even end up posing for her. And smiling too.

***

"My name is Tanya, got it? TANYAAAA!" Emmett bellows the next morning.

An extremely sombre looking Jasper rushes toward him, knocks over a stool in the process and mock slaps him across the face.

Emmett makes a huge show of falling onto the couch next to Rosalie.

"Oh, maaan, that …chick was…. hilarious," he says wiping tears from his eyes.

"That stopped being funny the fifth time you did it," Rosalie sighs, trying to cover her smile with her coffee mug.

"Oh, come on baby, get off your high-horse and ride with us on the choo-choo train of Tanya-lovin' but before you do that you'd better go check that my Prada skirt is doing good in the washing machine."

"Hahhh!" Jasper snorts out the gulp of water he's just taken, all over the carpet.

Emmett slaps his thigh with laughter, and I can't help but giggle from my position in front of them as I shove two hand towels from Grandma into my suitcase.

Who would have thought that Barbie-bot had the capacity to be this amusing?

"So, you all off back to LA now?" Emmett asks a little sadly.

"Alice and I are going to drop by to see the old bugs for a couple," Jasper says fiddling with his zippo, "What about you Bella? You riding with us or Edward?"

"Edwards going to drop the Vanquish back to Forks and we'll get a bus to the airport tonight."

How weird does that sound?

Back to the airport with Edward. To his apartment. His friends, his life…

Who would've thought that'd be coming from my mouth at the beginning of the holidays?

I'd been convinced that our bizarre relationship was pretty much finito.

And it's strange – because already I'm getting the hang of this "being together" thing with Edward. Only two nights, and I can't remember what it felt like sleeping without the warmth of his body next to mine.

"We're seeing you for the birth, right?"

I look up at Emmett as he gently caresses Rosalie's stomach.

Is it strange that I feel a little teary that he just asked me that?

Because I do.

"Oh? Um, I guess, I mean… if…" I trail off and look at Rosalie.

Rosalie shrugs, "It'd be nice to have everyone here, you know?"

"Why not?" I say nonchalantly.

I wouldn't miss it for the world.

Alice skips into the living room, wearing a yellow sweater and showing a great resemblance to …the sun.

She places camera kit carefully on the carpet next to Jasper and does an almost ballerina like twirl around the room.

"Baby, have you seen my boots?"

"Na-uh," Jasper clicks his tongue.

"You sure? They're not easy to miss. They're knee-length, leather and –"

"--purple and frilly?"

The whole room bursts into raucous laughter and cheering.

Even Rosalie is laughing openly now.

"What's funny?" Edward walks in a black shirt rolled up at the elbows and loose fitting jeans, looking much too gorgeous for his own good. His hair wet and combed back, and it makes me want to run my fingers and mess it up, because somehow it looks out of place like this.

"Nothing!" Alice squeals from her search behind the couch.

"I just told a really good joke," Emmett says proudly, "Wanna hear it?"

"Maybe another time," Edward says disbelievingly.

His eyes scan the room, land on me, and soften. Almost like a reflex, my heart jumps into my mouth. I wonder if there will ever be a time when it'll stop doing that. "We all ready?" he asks making his way toward me.

"We're ready," I answer, thinking I've garnered a huge amount of self control by not moving in for our second morning meeting of intense, animalistic, lovin'.

Edward kisses me for a tiny bit longer than is appropriate in a room of curious eyes….and I just know, that we're not going to last the whole journey back home.

***

We wave goodbye to Alice and Jasper and then everybody else says a hasty farewell to Edward and I, because their ice-cream soufflé, or whatever the hell they were eating, is going to melt. Then it's just Carlisle, Esme and I standing at the driveway.

Saying goodbye to the two of them is always so damn hard, but today, knowing Edward is behind me- even though much too preoccupied with the car radio- makes it easier.

"Um, guys," I move out of Esme's stone hard hug (wow was she always this strong?) …I just wanted to say sorry. I mean the craziness this Christmas… it …I'm sorry." I say staring at hard at my shoes.

"It's already forgotten." Esme slaps at the air and shushes me before I finish. "Sweetheart, I can't tell you how much it makes me happy to see you two together. I was always rooting for this."

"Oh."

Really?

"Yes," she answers like she's read my mind, "we all were. It… It's just wonderful and perfect and –"

I think she's tearing up. Uh oh.

"-- Plus the craziness, gives us something to bitch about when you're gone." Carlisle adds humorously, saving Esme from a possible melt-down.

"Ah…well, have fun."

He's joking.

I think.

"Bye, sweetheart," Esme waves.

"Be good." Carlisle says.

"I always am!" I grin back as I get into the car and wave like a frantic five year old child. Despite Carlisle's warnings, Edward speeds much too fast and in seconds the two of them are tiny dots.

I bite my lip and turn to the front, greens and charcoals whizzing past me and a strange feeling gripping at my insides. I'm not entirely sure what it is.

It's quiet apart from the smooth hum of the engine.

I feel like somebody should speak.

"You're going to cry," Edward says not looking at me.

"What? No, I'm not."

"I can read you like a book, Bella….look," he says fingering my cheek, "there's even a tear in the corner of your eye –"

"No, there's not!" I say defiantly.

"Yeah, right there, see?" he says tugging at the corner of my eye lid, a smile panning his lips.

"Stop it!" I say all seriousness, and then my tone turns playful because he's making me giggle and squirm in my seat, trying to make me laugh and lighten my sombre mood. It works. But that's not a surprise to me.

After Edwards done making me giggle/semi-groping me whilst using my tears as a ploy, I lean against the seat and close my eyes.

"It's rude to fall asleep in the passenger seat."

"I'm not sleeping. I'm thinking."

"About what?"

"Joys of Christmas."

"Ah," Edward kisses my hand and I turn to smile at him, knowing that contentment is radiating through every pore.

"We're going to be okay," he says with a simplicity and pureness that makes a static thrum run through my spine.

Then I realise what's gripping me is belief… possibility, the excitement of the new, the journey we're about to make. I'm not even scared anymore because I have faith that we're going to be more than okay… perhaps even amazing.

***

**Epilogue**

I could say a lot about that nineteenth Christmas with Cullens.

Though I'm not entirely sure where to start.

I could tell you that every moment before that Christmas was consequential, perhaps even fated in a way that led up to this point.

I found that like my second Christmas with the Cullen's "Fanta Claws" was a reoccurring theme in life that would bring me joy at every turn.

I found that like my fourth Christmas, there were many more times that Emmett would label me "inappropriate".

I found that like my sixth Christmas with the Cullen's, Grandma Cullen continued to inspire and humor me. It really would delight her to know that, more often than I'd like to admit, Edward and I ended up matching.

And like my eleventh Christmas I still laugh and tease Edward. I still flash him, yell at him and most definitely irritate him. We're always horny and our foreplay gets out of hand too….but these days when he tells me he loves me, he doesn't take it back again.

I found that the purple dinosaur during my fifth Christmas wasn't the only thing in the Cullen household I had fallen in love with.

Each one of these people had given me the type of love and compassion I yearned for, and finally learned to embrace.

This was where I was happiest, this is where I experimented and discovered Bella Swan. These were my most bittersweet, most earnest, most innocent moments.

Unlike my tenth Christmas I never got lost again, because I found what I'd always known…this is where I'll hope, I'll love and I'll grow. During Christmas with the Cullens, I'd found home.

***

The End.

_Ugh. How do people do this so often? I guess I could write another twenty chapters but it's really time to move on. Still... *wipes tears*_

_Some of you have PMed me about writing post Christmas story, and whilst I don't think that Bellas journey is finished – I do think this story is. But, saying that, somewhere in the middle, I did have a couple of ideas for possible outtakes. So nothing is concrete as of yet._

_I hope to be back, I loved it here, but as of when I'm not sure. Thanks all for taking your time to read and helping me improve, especially those that have been with this from the beginning. I loved every single comment... they made me smile. Also, don't forget to nominate for the Bellie awards! – the link's on my profile._

_Ciao for now and again, thankyou_

– Blue –


	17. Outtake

**I have a confession to make. I missed a certain scene from the final chapter- it got a little too long so I skipped it. But I decided to flesh it out and use it as an outtake. Its pretty smutty... and that's a warning!**

**Christmas With the Cullens**

I'm going to kill Emmett

Really kill him.

With knives and stuff.

I've been awake for the last hour, tossing and turning and tuning him out because he's moaning like a cry-baby outside Edward's bedroom door.

So, it goes like this: Emmett, _needs_ the bathroom because Rosalie _needs_ to pee, and for some strange, anomalous reason she needs_ this_ bathroom. Edward's very bathroom … despite there being a billion others located in the cottage. Oh, and she needs it _now._

"The tidings we bring…" Emmett sings outside the door.

I roll my eyes and tilt my head to the side.

Damn.

He sleeps like its hibernation season.

I mean, I get it.

Edward's exhausted and maybe I tired him out a little last night.

Alright, maybe I was a complete tyrant, but sheesh, a little help to cope with his big bro' and somewhat pregnant and highly urinating ho, wouldn't go amiss.

Besides it's Christmas morning. He should wake up and help me out because, well…. I'm horny.

Horny.

Uck.

By God, I _need_ him.

He's lying on his stomach, his head turned toward me so that I can feel puffs of his breath against my shoulder. His body is furnace hot against mine, and his lips are the most vibrant wine red I've ever seen.

And all I want to do is kiss him.

I want to kiss his un-flickering eyelids, I want to kiss his nose, I want to kiss the cheekbones which are streaked with color like he's been blushing too hard.

I want to kiss the hands that were wreaking havoc all over my body not so long ago, then his belly-button and especially his---uhh, wow-- stop!

_Stop._

In a desperate attempt to not rape Edward in his sleep, I lick my pinkie and stick it in his ear.

"What the _hell..._" He blinks groggily and grabs my hand in his, before I can move away. "…are you doing?"

Jeez, that is some fast reflex action going on there.

I struggle out of his grasp and smile sheepishly, leaning back into my pillow, "Hi."

Edward raises a questioning eyebrow.

"Why honey, I'm waking you up, of course," I say in a Stepford wife voice.

"Creative, Bella, yet highly annoying," he says leaning on his elbow and looking all morning-tousled and drowsy.

Somehow, I don't think Edward takes too kindly to being woken up when in deep slumber.

"Well first you should understand that this _charm _comes with my contract and second, you should not still be asleep on Christmas morning and third, its not that creative - ahh--," I giggle, because he's suddenly over me, on me, pinning me to the bed and nuzzling me under my chin. "It's called a wet w-"

"I _know_ what it's called and since when did you start dictating what I can and cannot do in the mornings?"

"Since you gave me the rights to your body."

He's holding my hands above my head, leaning into my neck. He smells morning-manly and the only thing between us is his shirt which I'm already regretting pulling over my head.

Still, his skin heats me up through the fabric and I feel a tingle in my cheeks at the way he's looking at me.

"Mmm. You smell like heaven."

"I smell like you."

"That's why you smell like heaven."

"Narcissist."

"A little self love never hurt anyone."

"Self love, huh? Stop putting naughty thoughts in my head."

"When are there _not_ naughty thoughts in your head?"

"Hmm…good point."

He rolls over and I move into him, so my nose is close against his chest. I need the contact, because this doesn't feel _real._

Like we've never had that weird pillow talk stuff until last night and we've never faced each other like this, the morning after, either.

We're happening.

It's that simple.

Does he feel like I do right now?

God… because it's… and I'm….

"Edward – " I begin.

"Yes?" His hands come to rest on the back of my head.

I pause.

"Nothing."

I'm pathetic. I really am.

There just aren't words that even begin to explain this. Us.

"Bella?"

"Hmm?"

He leans back so he's looking into my eyes. "I know."

Then his lips are on me and words don't matter because whatever this is between us, doesn't need them.

We're grasping and clawing and he's hard against my thigh.

Three bangs on the door.

"Hey, I like morning hanky-panky too, but you don't see me hula hooping at the expense of someone else's bladder!"

Edward groans against my mouth, but doesn't stop kissing me.

"I guess I forgot to pass… on the message."

"Good," he says fingering the collar of his shirt. "Don't."

His cell goes off.

Mumbling under his breath, he reaches behind him and answers without looking at the screen.

"Alice? – Why're you calling me? Yeah, I know its Christmas morning. I realise Rosalie needs to pee…. No, I don't care what my shower does to your pores…..I don't _like_ eggnog. No, you _can't_ talk to Bella. Bye."

He hangs up.

"What if I wanted to talk to her?"

"Trust me, you don't."

"What if….you're right."

I don't.

I grab his face in my palms. Edward rolls on top of me and…w h o a.

_Whoa._

_Good_ morning to you too.

"Honey, do you want to come downstairs and unwrap your presents?"

Esme.

"I also, erm, I think Rosalie needs the bathroom."

Edward closes his eyes and shakes his head like he's shaking away bad memories, and then looks at me apologetically.

He sits up and runs his hand through his hair.

Wait. Where is he---

"I'm sorry."

I stare at him.

No.

No, no_, no!_

You can't do this to me Edward Cullen!

You cannot--

Edward leans down and grabs his jeans.

He just did.

Wow.

Just, wow.

Nothing to kill a boner like a little bit of parental love.

Now, I'm pissed.

I jump off bed and walk into the bathroom without a glance behind me.

I'd say that the bathroom of choice is marble floored with a Jacuzzi, a gold-plated tub and pre-heated toilet seat. But it isn't, so I don't get the noise about it.

The only interesting is the mirror, which spans the entire width of the front wall and highlights your face in way that makes you want to take a step back.

The fit-out doesn't seem very Carlisle-like, but hey, we're all allowed to have pimpin' moments, I guess.

And is that a pimple?

Ugh.

I throw off Edward's shirt and get into the shower, then splutter as ice cold water hits my face full speed.

Shit, shit, shit!

"Here, let me."

Edward is standing behind me, sounding amused. He leans forward and does something magical and voila!

I don't resist when he takes hold of my shoulder and pushes me in the shower so I get warmer.

When I've stopped shivering and flapping, I notice Edward.

He's still here, one hand on the shower door, watching me intently.

I bite my lip, but don't cover myself or turn away.

Instead, I face him completely as the water splashes down my body, allowing him to take a look at what he's missing.

And boy does he take me in.

Edward's eyes travel the entire length of my body, taking his time like he's memorizing me, penetrating me without as much as a touch.

What the---

Now that shouldn't be allowed.

When his eyes land on my face again, I need to hold onto the wall to balance myself.

Well, I didn't expect _that._

I can barely hear him over the noise of the shower when he speaks.

"We need to get outta here. I want to take you to my place, my room, my bed. Come with me, Bella. Tomorrow. It'll be just the two of us."

He's sincere and earnest and making these promises that make my heart beat faster. I just can't be pissed anymore.

"It's just that it's Christmas and they're--"

"Cullens?"

"And they like to--"

"Cock-block?"

Edward grins.

"Considering they were able to over-ride default yesterday and give us time probably means that they'll over-repent for their actions today. "

"It's okay." I mumble.

He doesn't need to explain any of it to me.

They're crazy, nosey, over-protective and all that other stuff that can give any privacy-needing soul a shock to the system.

And truth be told, it feels strangely honest and a lot like family should be.

Even though it seems like it, the world won't end if I don't sex-up Edward Cullen on Christmas morning.

...Right?

"Look," I say, shoving my plastered hair away from my face and using my rational voice. I haven't used it in such a long time that it doesn't actually sound like me. "It's Christmas morning, Edward. We should be unwrapping presents, enjoying eggnog, stuffing turkeys-- whatever… It's probably making Charlie really uncomfortable thinking about what we're doing up here and well, Rosalie really should pee before she christens the hall-way. "

"Yeah," he muses, "true."

"We can wait. _I _can wait. So go. Go placate Emmett, tell him that I hate him immensely but I'm just about done here," I keep on, even though it hurts like hell to say it.

"Okay."

Edward nods once and then moves away and I close my eyes and turn around, feeling depressed and slightly suicidal.

Be still my beating heart.

Nobody can understand the pain I've endured—

The shower door closes and I open my eyes.

Edward just stepped into the shower. In his jeans.

Um?

Rivulets of water run down his face, his chest, making his jeans wet and cling tighter to him. It's the sexiest thing I've ever seen.

"If you're just here to tease me by doing suggestive eye thing but not really _doing _anything, I'm going to have to ask --"

"Turn around."

"What?" My mouth is dry as much as my body is wet.

"Turn around, Bella."

Er, okay.

I do.

His chest hits my back as he reaches over me. "Shampoo," he says simply, opening the bottle and squeezing into his palms, like I might forget to use it.

I don't bother ask why he's not taken full advantage of my compromising nature to forfeit sexy time as he was so adamant to do. I'm much too busy concentrating on what he's doing right _now. _

His hands are on me, foaming my hair, my neck, allowing it to rinse.

The excess suds fall on to my chest and he takes them from behind, his fingers moving back over my hips, moving over my ass.

I swallow hard.

He comes back up and gently rubs along my collar bone, pausing to get some shower-gel and then he takes hold of my breasts from behind me.

"Oh!"

Air whooshes from my lungs as he cups one in each hand, circling and foaming them symmetrically, using his thumbs to rub my nipples.

Then down again.

He grabs my hip and turns me around, his movement aren't near as urgent as I want them to be.

"Open up, Bella."

I hiccough and part my legs as he kneels in front of me, his face eye level with my chest and I watch almost unconsciously as beads of water drip from his lower lip.

His hands starts at my left ankle and in this achingly slow way that makes me want to grab them and press them into a rude place, he moves upward, reaches my upper thigh and then starts the torturous process on the other leg.

He's going to _kill _me.

By the end of his assault my lips are parted and I'm breathing like I do after ten minutes on the tread-mill.

He kisses my stomach and I whimper, tangling my fingers in his soaked hair.

"Why haven't you gone yet?"

He looks up at me, hair matted, eyelashes separated.

So darn _pretty._

"Because."

"Well that explains everything."

Edward stands up.

"Because I couldn't just leave you, because I'm insanely turned on, because Rosalie can use another damned bathroom."

"Right."

Wasn't all of that _obvious_, earlier?

"Yes," he says fingering my shoulder-blade.

"Is it because I relented and said you should go?"

"No."

"Really? Because I'm not so sure. I think if I had debated my point and lured you into staying, we probably would have argued and had the fastest break-up in history….In fact I think it's my morning generosity where I asked you to go, that's actually made you _not_ want to go and come back to me."

I smile triumphantly, because I'm so smart.

And they say women are complex.

"Are you going to stand here and pointlessly argue with me, or are you going let me fuck you before somebody breaks in?"

My eyes widen at his forthrightness.

Well, that's a stupid, _stupid _question Edward Cullen.

But just one more thing.

"You know, there is something to be said—"

Edward slams his mouth against mine.

Oh, _forget it._

Our fingers and bodies tangle, grunts and gasps mingling with the ricocheting water.

He's got me against the shower wall. I grab at tufts of hair as he bites my neck, his hands tugging at material around his waist which clings mercilessly to his body.

My hands dip below the waist-band and I help him shrug out of the wet denims.

He pops up, unrelentingly hard against my stomach.

I look up at him.

"What about Emmett?"

"What _about_ Emmett?"

"What about Alice? And the Christmas presents and eggnog and Charlie and his BB gun?"

Edward stiffens. "What?"

"Never mind."

"I don't care. I don't care about any of it."

He means it.

Not even the gun.

_Oh._

The tiles are cold against my spine as he grabs my butt and slides me roughly up against the slippery wall so I'm level with him

I turn my face toward the showerhead as he kisses my shoulder, my nipples, my lips.

There's moaning, pelting water, molesting fingers – I'm not entirely sure which sensation to concentrate on, so I just go with it and remember to breathe.

_"I_ couldn't wait, Bella. I don't care about what I'm _meant _to do on Christmas morning. I just need you."

"Maybe you're _meant_ to do me?"

He laughs, "You're incredible."

He lets go of me briefly and positions his dick against my entrance, before grabbing my thigh again.

I finger his lower lip.

"Flattery doesn't get you anywhere, you know."

"I think it just did."

Then without any warning, he pushes into me.

Heat explodes through my face and my fingers dig into his back as I balance at that fine precipice of pleasure and pain, waiting for my body to accommodate Edward.

But then he simply makes it better like he always does.

I hold on hard as he moves. It feels amazing, but everything's slippery, way too wet and steamy and he's sliding out of me.

"Bella… can you --" I shift my hip, Edward slips out.

"Here let me, I'll--"

"No, wait, not like that…" his fingers loosen around me and I glide down the wall, my feet hitting the floor.

"Edward?" I grab at his neck.

I can barely see him through the steam.

He picks me up and we hit the shower wall, clumsily.

Shower sex ya'll - it's not like in the movies.

Edward curses.

We're moving and he carries me out of the shower. The cold air is like coming up after being underwater too long.

He shoves me against the counter ledge, against the mirror. Shower cream, a razor and various toiletries clang to the floor to accommodate me.

"Better?" he asks grittily.

"Better."

The cabinet mirror on the opposite wall reflects our image. Edward leaning into my dripping body as my arms circle his neck. His hands against the mirror each side of me, my hair bedraggled and my face and skin a sharp crimson from the shower.

The picture is sensual...erotic as hell.

Then I catch Edward looking at me from the larger mirror, our eyes connect and fire sears through my body, making me ache all over.

Just… damn.

I pant out short gasps and lift my hips, toppling forward.

He moves fast, keeping me up with his leg, his hands move to my inner thighs, pushing me against the mirror and then pulling me apart.

"Bella, this is going to be --- I'm going to be a little selfish okay? "

"Edward," I gasp, the mirror smashing into my back, "Please."

He nods and leans over the counter, into his shave kit and oh—condom.

Right.

Yes.

Of course.

He places one hand back on the mirror as he rolls it on. I put my hands on each side of the ledge for leverage, lifting myself up, and his free hand comes under me. Then we're lined up and he slides in.

Using one hand to guide me to him, he moves fast, desperately, but not selfishly.

Not selfish.

I need _this _as much as he does.

My face is contorted, his gasps fevering my forehead and my aching nipples scratching his chest with every raw thrust.

I throw my head back watching him pound into me from the opposite mirror which is fast steaming over.

Christ.

Sliding my arms under his, I curl them around his damp shoulders. I can't tell anymore if he's wet with water or sweat, or if it's me or him that clinging harder and wanting more.

A frustrated growl escapes my mouth as our accession continues and continues without any sign of relent and its completely different from last night.

It's not just about coming together anymore. It's about what we've missed, what we've endured. The frustration, the need, the build-up over the years.

I move with him, meeting every advance with my own, like an equal. My body angling, curving grasping at things to remain balanced.

This is the first time we kissed in the cupboard in his bedroom.

This is the first time we discovered each other on the third step on the staircase.

This is our time at sixteen.

This is my sadness when Edward didn't invite me to his birthday, or every time he smiled at Tanya.

This is the elation that comes from hope, the kick to the gut that comes from rejection.

This is our longing every Christmas. Our uncertainty, our inability to reach an ending… a finish.

Our dance regains intensity; our thrusting is shorter, sharper, more fervid because what we both want is one and the same thing.

To be renewed from our past, to be overtaken completely.

"Unh, _yes_." I'm almost crying as tiny, monumental ripples start to form inside me.

He feels it too.

"Fuck," he curses in my ear, going harder and making my toes curl because they always do that when Edward plays to my fetish and talks dirty.

"More," I whimper, because I really have no problem begging.

I can feel his nose in my hair as he whispers _more _at me.

His words are pretty darn filthy and I probably should have recorded them and used them for black-mail purposes because I had no idea that Edward could even _think _up this stuff.

He's naughty.

And he's good.

Man, he's _GOOD._

His talk makes my stomach tug sharply and _oh God_….

I lock around him and there's this moment where our eyes meet in the mirror everything is fiery white because there's shock upon shock barraging through my body.

Oh God.

Oh GOD.

_GOD._

They pile on top of each other, one after the other, my fingers digging into his skin to keep from falling.

My insides grip him cruelly, depravedly as I pulsate, clamping him again and again.

"Bella…God, baby."

His mouth covers mine – to cover my violent noises or have me even more, completely,– I'm not sure.

Edward gasps into my mouth in sync with my own sounds. The sensations throwing him off each time they hit me, allowing him to become intimate with my every experience.

His breath's come harder as he thrusts and I know his control is waning and then it's his moment too.

He arches and makes that beautiful face and I pull him deeper inside, taking everything he has to give, peaking together.

Cleansed.

Completion.

Edward looks up from my clammy forehead and I try to regain some semblance and breath. "Wow that was… what _was _that?"

I follow Edwards gaze as he looks around us. Fogged-up mirrors, toiletries all over the floor, water _everywhere_ and Emmett yelling something far, far away.

He shrugs and smiles lazily. "Exactly how Christmas morning is meant to be."

*******

Damn they're a horny twosome, aren't they? So, what did you think of morning lovin' and of Bella finally "compromising"? Well, Kinda ;)

I may just have one more outtake for ya!

See you around!


End file.
